


False Euphoria

by summerhuntresses



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:54:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerhuntresses/pseuds/summerhuntresses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Willow spends her days in a cycle of hatred and pain, until one day she finally has enough and runs. On her journey she encounters a stunning and damaged girl. Can they help each other, or will the past come back to bite them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	False Euphoria

Have you ever stood on the top of a cliff and seen the whole world opened up in front of you? Felt like a bird, high in the sky, looking down on everything, totally untouchable? It's a euphoric feeling, and one that can be a tad dangerous. That feeling, one of utter freedom? If you're not careful, it can end in a nasty little tumble.

Some people, though, take that fall on purpose. They feel so alone, or unloved, or just plain worthless, they go to the top, feel the rush- and jump. In their minds, they're doing the world a favor. They don't deserve to live, or maybe their life is just so bad they don't want to. I was one of them.

It started my freshman year of high school. I felt like no one could touch me, or see me. I was invisible, completely cut off. The only time I was noticed was when someone needed something.

I was the school's genius girl, the one you went to for homework or study help. They would be grateful, you know, 'Oh, you saved my life, my project was due tomorrow, thanks so much for writing my paper, I love you-' you know, typical stuff. Then I'd go to the bathroom or walk through the lunchroom and I'd hear them, making fun of the loser with no life but books.

The thing was though, I didn’t get mad at them. I believed them. I thought I was so worthless, just a waste of space that could be better put to use by someone else.

It got so bad, I wanted to die. Of course, I couldn't do anything about it, because that wasn't what I did- I was good little Willow Rosenburg, reliable to a fault. Anything out of the ordinary would just be so shocking it would- well, I didn't know what would happen, only that it would not be good.

In the end, I guess I thought that if I did what everyone expected me to do without saying a word, I might be less worthless. That if I helped them, and took their cruelty, and only cried at home where no one would see, I would earn my place. So I did.

I did their homework, and took their shit, and after a few months, I stopped crying. I shut myself down inside. I figured feeling nothing was better than the pain.

The funny thing was, of course, I should have been used to it. It was like that my entire life. From day one, my parents weren't there. They hired nannies and sitters to raise me, and only paid attention to tell me what I should be doing better. I tried so hard to make them proud, I did, but I just never could. My mother would just spout statistics at me, and I honestly don't think I saw my father for two weeks the entirety of the fourth grade. They were spirited academics, and I think the only reason they had a kid was so they could be considered 'family friendly'. It always surprised me that they were aware enough of me to remember to give me money for my birthday. Their annual convention for some esoteric thing or another fell the week of my birthday. It got to be a ritual- wake up, get dressed, go downstairs, and read the note with the check attached. They used the same one every year- I hacked into my mom's computer and actually found a file labeled 'W BDay Note'. That didn't shock me.

Anyway, freshman year was bad. I hid for most of it. I got to know the library really well, since the likelihood of anyone actually coming in there was less than zero. I still heard the little snide comments, but they started to be drowned out by the ones in my head.  _Worthless, wrong, they're better off without you, no wonder you don't have friends, you don't deserve them..._  It was like that almost constantly.

Then one day, maybe a month into sophomore year, I was walking into the library, when a guy came rushing past me, big with the hurrying, and bumped into me. It hurt- a LOT. I couldn't figure out why until the librarian, a nice British man by the name of Mr. Giles, exclaimed "Good Lord, you're bleeding!"

Needless to say, I was startled. Funny thing though, I wasn't startled by the pain, as much as how good it felt. It seemed to lift some of the tension off my heart. I got bandaged up quickly, reminded Mr. Giles of my name, and ran out.

When I got home, I went straight for the kitchen. Opening a drawer, I pulled out a gleaming knife. I knew my mother kept these sharp, for whenever an urge to 'cook' came upon her. I got used to pizza pretty fast.

Looking at the knife, I got struck with an almost unbelievable urge to just make a little teeny cut. I was torn- I knew intellectually that this was dumb, but I remembered just how  **good**  it felt before. I thought myself in circles, getting into the worst mental babble I ever had. It took me a minute to realize that I hadn't just remembered the earlier pain- I had a new bloody line straight down my arm.

Looking at the blood making it's way down my arm, I realized that my head felt clearer. I wondered at this for a second, then just dismissed it with a smile. Life might just be looking up...

A few months later, I was still in pretty much the same mindset. Worthlessness, pain, inferiority- cut. It made me feel better.

Monday morning I overslept. I hadn't set my alarm or something, and it resulted in me getting ready and leaving for school at a sprint. I got there just before the late bell, and made my class with seconds to spare. Of course, this brought me to the attention of the school bitch queens, Cordelia Chase and Buffy Summers, and their pack of hangers-on. They were the rulers of the school, cheerleading co-captains and alternating Homecoming Queens. These were the ringleaders of my tormentors as well.

"Oh look girls, it's the fashion reject! Where'd you get those clothes, Goodwill?" Cordelia was in rare form today. Some of her insults actually hurt. Others just made me want to crack up. Buffy, on the other hand, was quieter, but made up for it by having a particularly nasty jibe when she did speak up. She had an irritating ability to figure out exactly what you didn't want people to know, and use it against you. It must come with the whole cheerleader deal.

"Well, Will, looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Red eyes and runny makeup- girls, I think the freak actually has a heart! Hey, wait, what's this?" She grabbed my arm and pulled up my sleeve. I couldn't figure out how she knew about my cuts- probably saw the edge of the bandage or something. Didn't matter anyway, now they were all surrounding me and mocking the 'poor little Emo chick'.

I was really surprised that they would be making fun of me when I was there. Usually they were more careful to not offend the person who saves their grades. Then a new thought struck me, one that made all of my remaining good humor from last night completely drain away, to be replaced with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I figured that either they were all PMSing or there was a new go-to genius in school, destroying my current status as 'somewhere near useful' and demoting me to 'worthless'.

This single thought revolved around and around in my head, drowning out their taunts, until it finally got to be too much. Without saying a word, I jumped up and ran out. This time I knew I was crying, but I didn't care, just ran. I stopped, finally, when I got to the front doors of the school. If I left now, not only would I be breaking the school rules, I would be defying the unwritten code that keeps everyone in their nice safe little niche. Without a second thought I stepped out.

I knew that everyone would know about my cuts, if they didn't already. It was just one more thing that made me a target. One thing I did know, though- if I went back, I wouldn't have a place anymore. I was just the freak who cuts herself and isn't good enough for anyone. I started running again, just trying to get away from all the pain in my head. I could feel the thoughts in my head, like they had a physical presence. And god, did they hurt.  _Worthless, waste of space, no one likes you…_

When I stopped again, I realized where I was. Kingman's Bluff, one of Sunnydale's only cliffs. It was usually a pretty popular spot, since you could see almost the entire town. I loved it. It felt like I was a bird, weightless and free, flying high above all of the expectations and pain. I came up here to think a lot. I loved to sit on the edge and dangle my legs over the void, like I was daring myself to just fall. I never would though, and there was always a modicum of peace when I left.

Today, though, I had a storm in my head, black thoughts swirling and hurting. I stumbled to the edge and looked out, hoping for the calm that usually accompanied the action. All I got was more pain. I hated everything about myself and my life right then, and finally I let it all go. I screamed, shrieking my pain and rage to the sky. All I got for my troubles was an echo and a seriously irritated bird.

My head felt a little clearer, and in a flash of clarity, I knew how to make it all stop. I looked over the bluff, and felt a peace settle in my heart. I took a deep breath, smiled… and jumped.

I felt an instant of falling, and the euphoria that brought my heart was unbelievable. Then came the part I hadn't thought about- landing. I hit hard, and instantly was wracked with agony. The one thought that came to mind was that dying couldn't possibly hurt this much. I had managed to screw up killing myself. I had one last thought before I drifted into blackness.

 _Well, fuck._

I woke to blackness. For a second this confused me, because I was pretty sure I wasn’t dead. I bummed about that for a minute, then moved on to the issue of why everything was black.

First idea: it was nighttime out, I was still at the foot of the cliff, and I was going to slowly die of exposure. I shuddered, since I didn’t particularly like the sound of dying so slowly and uncomfortably. I dismissed that idea quickly- too much for me to handle.

Second theory: I really was dead, and an eternity of blackness and itchy feet was my reward for being so useless. That wasn’t much better than my first idea, and it showed the state I was in that I cheered up from the thought that I didn’t screw up suicide. Of course, I was slightly depressed when I realized that the best I could hope for in my afterlife was itchy feet, but I decided not to dwell on that either. I moved on, seeking less un-fun realities.

Third guess: I needed to open my eyes. I considered, and decided to try it. I cracked open my eyelids, and shut them again almost instantly when a spike of pain railroaded through my skull. Well, that discarded the eternal blackness theory, and quite possibly the cliff bottom idea as well, although that was less certain.

That idea was completely thrown out when I realized that cliff bottoms were probably not this comfortable, and definitely weren’t accompanied by a nurse. At least, that’s what I assumed she was, aided by the fact that the instant she saw me move she started poking and prodding at me and writing down- something, I wasn’t sure what could be gotten from seeing how much I twitched.

“Good, you’re awake. I’ll send for a doctor. Don’t try to move.” With that, I heard footsteps move towards the direction I assumed led to the door and fade away. I cursed. I had wanted to ask her questions. Well, it gave me chance to take stock. Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes a slit.  _Ow_.

After the pain had faded somewhat, I looked around. Fluorescents, generically cheerful wallpaper, itchy sheets. Great. If I could have deluded myself at all about the nurse, my surroundings confirmed I was in Sunnydale’s biggest hospital.

I took a quick run-through of my body. Head: jackhammers were hammering away in my skull. Arms: sore and itchy. Torso: bruised, with a definite jab in my side. Legs: numb.

Wait, NUMB?? Why couldn’t I feel my legs? I started mentally freaking out, interrupted minutes later by the doctor opening the door.

"Well, Ms. Rosenburg, I'm glad to see you're awake. You had us worried for a bit there!" He seemed to be a cheerful man, one of those guys who wouldn't let anything get him down. I probably would have liked him, if I wasn't so busy freaking out silently. Sadly for him, the second I realized he was a doctor, my freakout became verbal and very much not in my head.

"What's wrong with my legs? What do you mean, you had us worried? How do you know my name? And why would it be so good that I'm awake, I mean, yeah, sleep, sleep isn't awake, but if I needed to be awake, you could have just woken me up! How were you worried? How long have I been here? What-" He cut me off here. As soon as my babble had started, his eyes had gotten wider and wider, until I thought they would just pop out.

"Woah there! Let's just rein it in a little there." Great. A cowboy doctor. My luck. "To answer, well, some of your questions, we were worried because you've been in a coma for almost four days. You stabilized yesterday, and we've been waiting for you to wake up ever since. We got your name out of your wallet, it was in your pocket. You've been here for five days, the coma didn't set in until we let up on the drugs. And your legs? You have severe lacerations, so we applied a local anesthetic as well as the overall pain medication. Should keep them pretty numb. You've got three broken ribs and a concussion on top of that. You're really very lucky."

I was impressed. Not only had he kept track of my babble, he'd answered it with an impressive babble of his own. AND he had answered almost all of my questions.  _Lucky?_  Of course, I couldn't fault him for not answering them all, I hadn't been able to ask them all. I decided to immediately remedy this. As soon as I opened my mouth, though, he cut me off.

"Ms. Rosenburg, I recommend you rest some more. In spite of having been unconscious for close to six days, your body needs to recharge. It's been focused on healing, now it needs energy, and it won't get that if you're active." He seemed very determined, but there were just a few things I wanted to know. I raised my hand tentatively.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly before bringing his hand down and giving me a slightly forced grin.  _Well, what do you know? Happy-man can be irritated!_  I side-tracked briefly before starting and asking him, "Okay… three questions." He nodded. "One, um, not to be rude, cuz you've been really nice and all and I don't want you to think I'm not grateful, cuz I really am, but this just popped into my head, and I-" he had to cut me off again. "Sorry. Um, who are you?"

He laughed. "Sorry, Ms. Rosenburg, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Doctor Wyatt."  _Okay, name, check_.

"Good. Nice to meet you. Next, what happened to me? I mean, not my injuries, you explained those, but what  **happened**?" I was really nervous for this answer- what he said could pretty much determine my future. If they thought it was an accident, I'd be warned to be more careful and then discharged, but if they thought I was suicidal, they'd keep me under close observation. _Which is just stupid when you think about it. It's not like I'm gonna do it again._  I frowned.  _I'm really not. Huh_. I shook that off to think about later.

"It says here you were found at the base of King Man's Bluff. Looked like you fell. Do you remember anything? Were you startled at the top?"

Relief. He didn't know why I was up there. Then I realized he was waiting for an answer.

"Oh! Yeah, startled, that was me. I saw a… a frog! Yeah, that's it, a frog. Icky nasty little green things. It jumped and I screamed then I guess I fell and blacked out. Stupid frogs. Heh." I grinned as innocently as I could at him, which really wasn't that much. I guess it was enough though, since he only peered suspiciously at me for a minute before writing something on his chart.

"All right, then, Ms. Rosenburg. But please do be more careful next time you're on the top of a steep cliff." This guy kinda reminded me of the librarian, Mr. Giles. If Mr. Giles was American, and a cowboy. Huh. "You said you had another question?"

"Yes I did, as a matter of fact!" I smiled up at him. Then I wondered why he looked impatient. Oops. "OH! You want to know what it is!" He nodded. Can people nod sarcastically? "Did, um, did anyone come to see me? While I was here?" When I finished, my voice was significantly smaller, and much more scared.

He looked at me sympathetically. "I'm afraid the only people to see you were the hospital staff. Do you have any idea where your parents are?"

 _Prague, Budapest, Vienna, who knows?_  "No."

"Oh. Well, then we can try to get in touch with them if you-"

"Dr. Wyatt, just tell me when I'm gonna get out of here." I came off much colder than I intended. I was upset, though I didn't know why, and was trying not to show it. I was used to my parents' absentee behavior, so why was I getting upset about it now? Maybe it was that I thought they should come visit their only child when she was in a COMA for FIVE DAYS.

I think I have issues.

Three days later, I was walking out of the hospital under my own steam. My legs weren't totally a hundred percent, the cuts had been pretty bad, but the staff were efficient and good at their jobs, and so my stay was ended. It really hadn't been as horrific as my overactive and seriously bored brain had started to imagine, but I was glad to be gone.

I had had  **way**  too much time to think while I was stuck, bored and alone, in there. Obviously, I had been thinking first and foremost of what had happened. I had jumped. Tried to kill myself, attempted suicide.

No matter how I said it, it sounded bad to me. I didn't regret it, though. That one act (jumping, not thinking) had led me to my next conclusions.

I don't want to die. That thought seemed a little bit- okay, a lot- at odds with my past actions and my previous thoughts. It was true, nonetheless. My jump, and the fear that had followed, had shown me that I wanted to live. I didn't want the empty existence that I had for myself here. I wanted to really get out there and live, enjoy myself, not be the meek  _worthless_  little mouse who never stepped out of line that I was here.

I had to go. Sunnydale wasn't for me anymore, if it ever was. There were too many memories here, ones that would only keep me in my bad space.

Too many memories, and too much history. I wanted to start totally new.

I planned to clean out my bank accounts, take my laptop, and get on the next bus to LA. From there I could decide in relative peace what to do next. I still needed a lot of serious thinking time.

All of my doubts, fears, and insecurities weren't gone- not by a long shot. On the contrary, they were circling me, waiting for me to be distracted from my plans and preparations long enough for them to swoop in and take a hold of me again.

I shook them away for now, and hailed a cab.

* * *

I contemplated the ordeal before me- nothing I had done so far had come close to preparing me for this. I was practically shaking with fear, and yet the outcome was inevitable.

I took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and stepped onto the bus. Finding a seat fairly quickly near the back of the bus, I placed my bag on the seat next to me. The bus wouldn't be very crowded, but I wanted to be sure. I couldn't risk seeing anyone I knew, and dealing with someone else? Not on my top ten list of things to do. At the very least, they would stare the whole trip at the tearstains on my face or the fading bruises decorating my skin. Ick.

I was running pretty much on autopilot. For the last two days I had been incredibly busy. I had hacked into the school's database and copied my transcripts, and saved them all to my laptop. Huge amounts of luggage had been accumulated from my near-continuous packing, and almost as much discarded in fits of worry.

I'd altered the school's database this morning, waiting until the last possible second. My goal was to utilize my status as 'invisible' and have it be a mighty long time before anyone realized I was gone.

I planned to start completely fresh in LA, and that meant inventing a completely new beginning for myself. Of course, I had a shortcut- all I would have to do was edit the Sunnydale transcript a little and I'd be good to go.

I had also taken everything I could from the bank, and was planning on hacking it later to get what I couldn't today. It had to be as near to my departure as possible so no one noticed before I could leave. Of course, that would mean they noticed me at all.  _Yeah, right_. Accordingly, I was really freaking tired.

Sitting now, the thoughts that had been battering at my mental defenses ever since I decided to leave yesterday burst through into my brain with a vengeance.  _Oh, and they brought friends! Lovely_. I'd almost forgotten just how horrible I could feel, having been way too busy the last couple of days to dwell on my insignificance. Now, though…

 _Wrong. Worthless. Good-for-nothing, no one wants you, you should run, it's what you deserve, useless pathetic stupid ugly little bitch, why didn't you just finish it the first time, go back to the cliff and stay there, do something right for once, you're bad worthless wrong worthless useless worthless makeitstop MAKEITSTOP **MAKEITSTOP**!_

I was sobbing, shaking, shuddering, clutching my bag to my chest like it could save me from my mind. My head was pounding and my heart raced wildly, totally out of control.  _Why can't I just be a normal girl? That's all I want. Just… normal._

Wiping my eyes, I shook my head at my own naïveté. I would never be normal, and really should be used to that by now. Idly, I wondered what had happened to my numbness of just a few weeks ago.  _Maybe this isn't such a good idea, with me so emotional._

With a jolt I realized that even if I had second thoughts, they were pointless now. The bus had started and moved off from the station while I was wrapped up in my head. I turned in my seat and watched the only home I had ever known recede into the distance.

I turned around and faced my future.

 _I stared over the familiar landscape of Sunnydale, spread out before me in all it's glory. Standing at the top of Kingman's Bluff, I watched as the teeny people below went about their day-to-day lives. Then I took a second look._

Fires danced through the streets, menacing all the passers-by. I saw a trio of girls trapped in a shop, and two more guys running from the approaching blaze. Everywhere, people screamed and fled, some falling and being trampled by the uncaring mob.

Without even stopping to think, I sprinted towards the chaos that had so suddenly unfolded before my eyes. At first I just thought I wasn't running fast enough, and redoubled my pace. But no, the second I got to the bottom of the bluff, I was right back where I started.

Why couldn't I reach them? I had to help them! They needed me! I helped them, that's what I did! So why couldn’t I help them now?

All of a sudden, a new face entered my view. I shouldn't have been able to make it out, I was too far away, but I could see perfectly. It was another girl, slightly taller and more muscular than me. Long, red hair, reminiscent of the flames, fell gracefully down her back. She was radiant in all aspects, except for one- she was faceless. It was like a veil hung over her, but I knew that beneath the veil, she was beautiful.

She was everything I should have been, could have been.

With an economy of movements, she calmed the panicking crowd and got them all to safety. Confident they were safe, she turned to the bonfire that Sunnydale had become, and with a single motion, extinguished the flames. In the sudden silence, one word rang in the air: Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.

I locked eyes with the girl, and then I was falling.

I jerked awake, panting for breath, with tears streaming down my cheeks. I was getting some strange stares from some of the bus's other occupants, so I wiped my eyes and got up to visit the bathroom. At the very least, I needed a mirror to assess the damage my nightmare had caused.

Trudging back, I suddenly realized how tired I was. I had just gotten out of nearly a week in a coma, and all of a sudden I was ready to just fall into bed and sleep- forever. I could feel the weight of all my decisions pressing in on me, and it was a nearly physical pressure in me.

My limbs started trembling, faint and unnoticeable to others. Light beads of sweat broke out on my forehead, and I realized that it had been… what, nine days since I cut last? The pressure in my limbs building, I stumbled the last few steps to the bathroom in a daze, closing and locking the door behind me. I sagged against the wall, and took a good look at myself in the mirror.

My eyes widened.  _I look like death_. That was the first thing that came to mind. It was true, though. Deep purple circles had taken up residence under swollen, bloodshot eyes. My skin was a charming grey, colorless except for two spots of red high on my cheekbones.  _God, I look **worse**  than death._

I splashed some water on my face and turned to leave, the shock of my appearance distracting me from my pain. Out of the corner of my eye a metallic gleam flashed. I froze. Images of blades and blood and relief from the neverending pressure danced before my eyes. Suddenly, I remembered why I came staggering in here in the first place.

Whipping around, I almost fell over when a wave of dizziness overtook me. I lunged for the shiny flash, and pulled out a hand mirror. A growl rose from the back of my throat. The sudden urgency took me completely by surprise, but I needed to cut and I needed to now. I tried to calm my racing mind, recalling that there was a switchblade in my carry-on bag. It was partly for protection, partly for times like now.

I unlocked the door of the tiny cubicle and stepped out, calmly making my way towards my backpack. I didn’t want anything making me look unusual or remarkable. When I got there, I contemplated taking the blade out, but dismissed that thought for fear of someone seeing it. I grabbed the whole bag and returned to the room, pain and stress vying for mental domination the whole while.

In what seemed like a second I had the door shut and locked again. I pulled out my knife and dropped everything else unceremoniously on the ground.

Thinking for a minute, I frowned. If I was going to do this, I would have to cut my arms. My pants were white for some unfathomable reason, and would show the bandage underneath. After the incident with the cheerleaders at school, I seemed to be more reluctant to cut where it could be seen.

The emotions swirling through my mind decided it for me. I pulled up my sleeve.

* * *

A shifting in the seat next to me woke me again. Acting on some instinct, I jerked up until my back was to the window and pulled my wounded arm to me.

The source of my disturbance soon became clear- a young blonde had moved my backpack off the seat next to me. I relaxed, and looked at her.

"I-I-I'm sorry. There a-aren't a-any m-more seats. Do y-you mind?" As she spoke, I was looking her over. Taller than me, with a seriously defensive posture. She had her shoulders bowed, with her arms wrapped around her middle. Idly, I wondered how she had managed to move my bag like that. All I could see of her face was her hair- she had her head down to cover herself up.  _She doesn't look too bad._

"Sure, go ahead. You just startled me, is all. You going to LA? I'm Willow, by the way."

She looked up and nodded once before letting her hair cover her face again.

 _Oh, she's shy_. She seems nice, though. It could be nice to have a friend in LA. Thinking this, I laughed internally. It would be nice to have a friend at all, and I felt an instant camaraderie with the obviously timid blonde.

"Cool, me too. Hey, now I'll know at least one person there! Not counting the high school bitch queen's ex-boyfriend, cuz I didn't like him."  _Wow, Willow, lame much? You'll totally scare her off. Nice going, it's no wonder you're always alone_. I groaned- it usually took longer for my demons to come back again after I- "What?"

"N-nothing, I-I was just s-saying that my old s-school had s-some people who moved h-here t-too. M-my name's Tara, by the w-way." I nodded, and involuntarily yawned, feeling like my jaw would come off. She seemed to curl farther into herself, probably thinking of how rude I was.

"I'm sorry, Tara, I haven't slept well these last few days. It's not that you're boring, really- cuz you're not. I mean, obviously I've known you for like two minutes, and so am not qualified to judge you, but I don't think you're boring. If anything, I'll end up the boring one here. And I'm babbling, and you should stop me when I do that." I finished sheepishly, looking at her and grinning apologetically.  _Moron_.

"N-no, it's o-okay, really. I d-don't mind. A-and you don't h-have to l-listen t-to me, j-just t-tell me to g-go a-a-away." At this, I reached out and touched her hand gently, smiling at her. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew she had to be treated like that- gently.

"Not gonna happen." And it was true- I liked this shy, stuttering blonde girl. I had no intention of going anywhere.

She looked up at that, and I got my first look at her eyes.

 _Wow_. They were the most unbelievable blue I had ever seen. I stared, not even realizing how decidedly stalker-ish my actions could seem. Sparks ran through my system, setting my nerve endings on fire. My mind raced trying to find something to compare that color to. She blushed gently, but didn’t look away.

I wondered at my feelings. I hadn't ever felt like this before, and it was strange. I felt connected to Tara, even though I just met her. It was kinda scary- I had practically no experience with people, but even with my limited references, I was sure this wasn't normal. It felt good though, so I went with it, and just looked at her.

The spell was broken when a big guy with a lot of luggage stomped his way onto the bus. She flinched back, and her sleeve rode up higher on her arm. What I saw there made my blood run cold.

There were bruises all up her arm as far as I could see. That in itself was pretty bad, but one of them was distinctly a handprint. I couldn't believe it- who would want to hurt Tara?

I didn't understand any of it- not my instant affection for the blonde, and not my sudden protectiveness. It didn't matter, though. Right then and there, I made a promise to myself- I wasn't gonna let anything else hurt this girl.

I liked Tara. I mean, I  **really**  liked her. She was shy, and unassuming, but under all of her timidity and fear, she was wickedly smart and had a sense of humor that complemented mine.

We spent the next forty-five minutes talking about everything- from our plans in LA to our favorite bands. The only thing we didn’t talk about were our reasons for leaving.

I knew she was running from something- the bruises on her arms proved that. It was her business, though. We hadn’t even known each other for an hour, and I couldn’t ask something so personal.

Also, I was afraid that if she told me her story, she’d ask for mine. If I told her, she would undoubtedly walk away in disgust. Hell, I disgust myself, so why not her?

“W-Wilow? You okay?” Oops. As we’d been talking, her stutter had gradually vanished. I figured it was a comfort thing. It reappearing meant I must have zoned out for a moment, and that meant she thought I was ignoring her. Crap.

“Sorry! I was thinking, and then my thoughts got all serious, and I zoned out. Nothing against you. Um. You hungry?” Not only was I trying to change the subject, I really was hungry.

The bus had been moving for hours by now, and I hadn’t eaten at all. Looking at Tara, I guessed she hadn’t eaten either.

Actually, looking at her, I noticed that even though she had a really nice figure, she looked way too thin. She would have some wicked curves if she was fed well.

 _She’s gorgeous anyway, but- wait, WHAT? I think she’s gorgeous? Well, yeah, she’s a girl, I’m a girl, I’m noticing. It’s purely friendly._

I was shook out of my thoughts once again by her voice. “Yeah, I haven’t eaten yet. Um, I d-don’t have any money, though. It’s okay, I can wait.” She looked down, hiding an embarrassed blush behind her hair.

 _Ooh, another piece of the puzzle! She doesn’t have much money. I don’t have all that much, either. Maybe we could help each other out?_

“What? No! No, Tara, you shouldn’t go hungry. Especially not on Thanksgiving. I brought sandwiches, no worries. We’ll make this a good Thanksgiving. We’re here, with turkey and friends.” I nodded emphatically as I concluded. “Well, friend, anyway, but it’s the thought that counts!”

She smiled happily, and agreed. We split the sandwiches, grateful there was enough for both of us. Just as I was about to take a bite, she surprised me by speaking up.

“We should give thanks. I know we don’t have the most ideal of situations, but there has to be something good about our life right now, and it’s good to acknowledge that.” When I nodded, she started.

“In my life, I’m thankful for my freedom. I’m thankful that I’m here, with food and a future. And mostly, I’m thankful for you, Willow. You noticed me, and treated me nicely. So thank you, Willow. I’m grateful for you.”

I was speechless. No one had ever paid attention to me before, let alone enough to be grateful to me. I felt a huge smile start to make it’s way across my face. My heart felt light, like it was back on Kingman’s Bluff, but this time when I jumped, I soared. It was a feeling that was completely new to me.

Before all of my mental faculties shut down, I replied. “I’m thankful for the opportunity I had in getting here. I’m grateful for my first Thanksgiving in my memory where I have someone who actually cares for me. And that leads me to my next point- I’m so, so thankful I met you, Tara. You’re the only one in my life who cares about me, even a little bit. It’s a new feeling, and on I hope I can get used to. So Tara, I’m unbelievably thankful for you.” I finished up, smiled at her, and promptly passed out.

* * *

“Willow? Willow! Willow, please wake up. Oh, goddess, please wake up!”

I heard a voice through the blackness surrounding my consciousness. The voice was familiar, sweet and feminine. Swimming upwards through the fog, I searched for that voice. It was too scared, I had to make it better.

When I finally broke through the fog, the first thing I saw was Tara. She was wide-eyed and frantic, close to panicking. She also looked kinda… weird.

“I’m okay. It’s okay, nothing’s wrong, we’re all good. What happened?” I was quick to reassure her, but I knew that something must be wrong- why else would I have passed out?

“Y-you fainted. I d-didn’t know what to d-do! I was s-so worried. How do you feel?”

I thought. No major injuries, just a slight headache. I did feel really hot, but overall it was nothing compared to my little adventure on the cliff.

“I’m fine, just a little headache and some heat issues, but nothing major. Seriously, Tara, don’t worry.” I was beginning to worry about  **her**. She looked like she was about to either burst into tears or run screaming from the bus. Neither option was good in my mind, so I sat up to comfort her. At least, I tried.

The second I moved, my muscles rebelled. “Oh, ow.” I sank back down into the seat, then realized with some confusion I was horizontal. Oh. My head was in Tara’s lap.  _Comfy._  No wonder she looked so strange. The thought was banished from my mind as she started to cry at my outburst.

“You’re not okay! You’re hurt, or sick, and you’re going to leave, and I’ll be alone again! I don’t want you to go!” I was amazed, again, at her caring. She’d known me for an hour at most, and already she was this worried about me. It was a nice feeling, to be wanted. I really did mean what I said when I gave thanks.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here. You’re safe, I’m with you.” I felt a tear splash on my face, then another. I eased my way out of her lap, slowly and painfully. The blonde pulled back, wrapping her arms around herself again.

“I-I’m sorry. You j-just looked kind of… u-uncomfortable? I d-didn’t mean-” Here I cut her off. I ignored speech, and just hugged her.

Tara stiffened in my arms for a second, but I stayed firmly where I was. I marveled at the softness of her, and the rightness I felt in hugging her, comforting her. It made me… incredibly happy. It was a good feeling. Comfortable, you know?

Finally, I felt her relax. Her arms came up and returned my hug. I turned my head into her neck and murmured, “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

I  **felt**  her smile. “I wouldn’t want to.”

We stayed like this for a few more minutes, then I pulled back. I had an idea I wanted to discuss with her.

“Hey, Tara? I know you don’t have a place to go in LA. I don’t either, and rent isn’t cheap. Would you want to go in on a place, um, together? I mean, you totally don’t have to, I’d get it if you said no. I don’t usually do this, trust a person I just met, and you probably shouldn’t either, but it’s different with you, I feel like I know you already. And, and, do you get it at all?”  _Wow, way to sound like a creepy stalker pedophile person._

She blinked at me. I an instant I was even more flustered than I had been. “I mean, it’s good for rent at all, and we could split the cost, and have like twice as much money as we would. It would also be kinda nice to, you know, have a friend?” Now I was certain I sounded like an idiot. That’s why it was such a shock to me that she smiled.

“I’d love to.”

"Wow."

"Yep."

"I mean… wow."

"Yep."

Both me and Tara were struck speechless when we got off the bus in busy LA. It was so different from what I had come from- small-town Sunnydale, not so much with the bustle. Or the people. I didn't know where Tara came from, but I was betting it wasn't anything like this either.

Thinking about it, I realized I didn't know all that much about Tara. I mean, I knew she liked classic rock, and lemon-lime sorbet with caramel, and had a thing for kittens, but that was all surface stuff. The big things- where she came from, why she left, her last name- that was all a mystery.

I shut down the inquisitive side of my brain- it was her business, she'd tell me when she was ready.

"So now what? We're here, we have a plan, but where do we go? I mean, neither of us has an apartment here, and I'm guessing it takes some time to get one. Maybe we should get a motel room until we find a place. It shouldn't take that long, right?" This had been bugging me for a while. It was all well and good to have a plan, but putting it into action required a little more, well, action.

"A motel is fine, do we have enough money? I'm guessing jobs are needed." Oh.  _Crap_. Another thing I had to think about. Tara was right, though, money was an issue.  _Unless…_

"Well, there might be something I can do about the money thing. My parents left me, a trust fund you could say. It's not supposed to be opened until my eighteenth birthday, but if I could get the number of the account, I could hack into it, transfer the money to another account, and withdraw it all. Then we can open a new account and put it all in there but it would be usable this time."

It could work. The problem? It was A) illegal, B) tricky, and C) could lead anyone looking for me right to LA. I'd have to go somewhere else to withdraw the money, since the transfer could be traced.

It seemed Tara had similar thoughts. "Isn't that, um, illegal?"

"Well, yeah, but it's my money anyway, not like I'm cracking open some random guy's life savings. Although I could do that-" Here she raised her eyebrow at me, "but I wouldn't, because it's immoral and wrong." I nodded decisively, then peeked to see if I was in trouble.

She frowned at me. I quailed, and started babbling. "I mean it! No random stealing for me. I wouldn't do that, really I wouldn't, and I probably couldn't even if I tried, which I haven't, and-"

Finally, her glowering exterior cracked. First a smile showed, then a grin, and all of a sudden she burst out laughing. I gaped.

"Oh, god, your face! You should have seen it, so priceless, I mean-" Her laughter choked her sentence off, and she doubled over.

"Ooooh, you evil girl, I'll get you for that!" I dropped my bags and pounced, grabbing her and ticking her mercilessly. Or at least I tried. In a move so smooth it seemed choreographed, she swung away and grabbed  **me**.

"What was that you were saying? You'll get me? How'd that work out for you?" She smirked in my face. Her sudden closeness took my senses by surprise. I had NOT expected her to be in my face, and my mind reacted like a steel trap.

"Uhhh, huh?" I blinked. Then blinked again.  _Did she say something?_  "Oh! Actually quite well." I smirked right back at her, then latched onto her hands and tugged. Thrown off-balance, she landed smoothly in my arms, and I held on tight. "Yep, quite well."

I gloated for a second, then registered that not only wasn't she laughing, she was tense and trembling in my arms. "Tara? You okay?" I let go of her. She pulled back, wrapping her arms around her. Well, crap.

Suddenly, memory hit me like a slap in the face. Her bruises! I had completely forgotten them! Oh, god, she must be terrified of me!  _How stupid do you get? Grabbing someone who is obviously used to being hurt? God, you're a fucking retard, aren't you?_

"Oh, god, Tara, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking, and then the grabbing, and the pulling. Did I hurt you? I totally forgot about the bruises, you must be so terrified of me. I'll go now, I'm sorry." I picked up my bags, and turned to go.

"W-what? No! Willow, wait. Y-you saw the bruises?" She seemed even more scared now than she did when I grabbed her. Quickly, I moved to reassure her.

"Yeah, but it's okay, you don’t have to tell me. It's your business, I won't push for details." I meant it, too. I hadn't let go of my bags yet, still worried she wouldn’t want anything else to do with me.

"No, I want to. Um, can we get a motel room first? It's not so much a long story, but it's… hard, and I'd like to be comfy when I tell you. And the money thing? It's a good idea." And for at least the third time since getting on the bus, Tara stunned me. This entire day had moved so fast.

When I woke up this morning I was a girl with nothing, leaving home in secret. Now, just hours later, I had a future, a roommate, and most importantly, a friend who trusted me with an obviously painful past. I decided then, returning the favor was the least I could do.

"Sure, Tara. I'll find a phone book and get us booked in. And, um, I have some things I want to tell you too."  _Then we'll talk. And do I have some things to tell you._

We made the trip to the motel I'd found in silence. I could sense that she was nervous, curled into herself as we walked. It worried me, even from where I was I could see her trembling.

 _Does she think I'll leave, if she tells me? Not likely, if anything, she'll leave me!_  Luckily, it wasn't a long walk, since the entire time I was battling with my brain.

 _I have to tell her! She's trusting me, and it would be bad to back out now! **She'll leave you, you're not good enough for her**. Well then, that's her choice isn't it? **Do you really want to risk it? Just don't tell her, and maybe you'll keep one friend in your life.**  By lying to her? That. Would. Be. WRONG! What part of that are you NOT getting? And why the hell am I arguing with myself? Agh!_

After I had so decisively won my argument with myself, I realized we were here. Looking over at Tara, I saw she wasn't as aware as I was- she was about to walk right past it. I gently grabbed her arm, tugging her to a stop and pointing wordlessly. She nodded, and walked in. This wasn't gonna be easy, for either of us.

The slimy kid at the counter leered at us when I got us a room. Tara cringed away from his obviously suggestive stare, making me glare back at him as we left for our room. I was thankful there was a double for us, since I got the feeling Tara wouldn't be comfortable sharing a bed.

"We should unpack. Will we be here long enough to unpack?" Who knows how long it could take to find an apartment in LA.

"I-I don't know. I'm used t-to living out of my suitcase, though. C-can we talk first? I'm gonna l-lose my nerve if I don’t get this out s-soon." She was right, I could tell. She had gone from trembling to shaking, and was really pale.

"Yeah, okay. Do you want to go first, or shall I?" Her choice. If I went first, I'd get mine out there, maybe show her that I was just as messed up, no, scratch that, MORE messed up than her.

On the other hand, she might not be able to keep her resolve up long enough if she had to wait more. Bitch of a choice.

We sat in silence for a moment, then without any warning, she stood up and stripped off her shirt. For a second I was dumbstruck- why the hell was this girl shy? Gorgeous- that was the only way to describe her. Then I looked past the yummy curviness, and saw what I assumed she meant to show me.

Bruises decorated her skin, up and down and all around. What patches of clear skin she had were small and few. Her stomach was the worst, though. It was nearly black in places, and there was a mark right under her breasts that I was sure displayed broken ribs.

Up her arms were the definite finger marks I'd spotted on the bus, at least two sets, maybe three.  _Three people wanted her to suffer? What kind of morons are they?_

The thing that chilled me most, though, was the half-healed wound on her right side. From the angle I was at, I couldn't tell exactly what it was, only that it was recent, and serious.

As she moved to sit down again, she began to speak. "My mother died eight months ago, right after I turned seventeen. It was my sophomore year of high school. My father and brother are incredibly devout Catholics, and they never approved of my mother and I. We're Wiccan, and to them, that directly challenged the Church. Whenever they found us practicing, or doing a ritual, they would get so angry. My father would shout and quote Scripture at us, and if he was in a particularly bad mood, he would b-beat us.

"My brother was worse- he was an animal. He loved to make us hurt. While my mother was alive, she would take my beatings for me, and wouldn't let them hurt me. When she d-died, though, that all changed. It was my father's fault- he said she had a demon inside of her, and that it was exacting its price for her evil. Her wouldn't take her to a doctor, and eventually the c-cancer killed her. He, he changed, afterwards.

"He started to drink, and the beatings came more and more often. I was pretty much their slave, doing chores and cooking for them. I probably would have stayed, since I thought that was where I belonged. I've been told my whole life that I'm bad, and dirty.

"Last month, though, Dad and Donny came home really drunk, worse then usual. I had burned myself cooking dinner, so I wasn't ready yet. They were so mad. That's where most of this comes from." Here she gestured vaguely to the bruises.

"They, they hit me, and when I fell, they just kept kicking me. Then Donny, he r-r-r-" she broke down crying, harsh sobs that ripped out of her chest. She bent over, hiding her face in her hands. I wanted to comfort her, but I knew she had to get it out. So, I compromised.

Scooting over, I wrapped her in my arms. "Did he- did he rape you, Tara?" She nodded mutely and tried to pull out of my arms. I tightened my hold, rubbing circles on her back. She turned her face into my neck and kept talking.

"When he finished with me, I tried to run, I tried! But he was there, and Dad was too, and before I knew it, I was on the ground and there was a knife in my side. I was screaming through most of this, but I guess no one heard me. Dad and Donny started fighting then, and must have forgotten about me. Like I said, really drunk. I ran out, somehow, and made it to my neighbor's house without collapsing. The last thing I saw was her staring at me before I passed out.

"I woke up in the hospital. It was so scary, and I knew that my father could get to me in here. He has a silver tongue, can talk his way into anything. So as soon as I was strong enough, I ran again. I slept in the park for a week or so before I got my strength back. I snuck back to my house, got my stuff, stole all the money I could find, and got on a bus. I've been sleeping on buses and on the ground for almost a week. Then I met you, and here I am."

Throughout this entire thing, I had kept her in my arms. Now I laughed, short and sharp. She glanced sharply up at me, almost comical in her disbelief.

"No, Tara, I'm not laughing at you. It's just, we're a screwed up pair, aren't we?" I rolled up my sleeves, displaying the latticework of cuts there. My left arm still had a bandage covering my latest one, the one I'd made only minutes before meeting her.

She didn’t say anything, just traced the half-healed wounds gently.

"My story in a nutshell- I've been alone my entire life, couldn't take it anymore, cut myself for a while, then jumped off a cliff. Wiped out my existence in Sunnydale and got on the bus for LA this morning. Ow!" Tara jerked her hand back.

"Sorry." I barely heard her, clutching the arm to me. The light pressure on my newest cut seemed to trigger something. All of a sudden, my headache, forgotten until now, came rushing back.

"No, it's okay, just a headache, and some heat, and- oooh boy, that hurts." Lances of pain were shooting up my arm. Now Tara looked even more worried. Ignoring my protests, she pulled my arm to her and yanked off the bandage.

"OW! Trying to kill me? What's the- oh, crap." The cut from the bus was bright red, with red lines extending outwards. "That's not good, is it?"

She shook her head. "It's infected. We need to get you to a hospital."

"No! Hospital means records! They can find me with records! Don't let them find me, they'll bring me back. I don't want to go back, I want to stay with you!" I was losing coherency, the pain from my arm beginning to overwhelm me. _Don't leave me! Don't make me go back. I don't want to be invisible again!_

"All right, I think I can treat this. Not like I don't have enough practice." This last was mumbled, not for me to hear. I heard it anyway, filing it away to ask about later.

"Um, Tara? It's bad when the world goes black right?" She looked up, alarmed. "Thought so. Catch me?"

She jumped, grabbing me as I passed out. I saw her wince, clutching her side, and the last thing I heard was this: "Stay with me Willow! Fight, roşii frumoase."

I decided to wake up and ask her about that later. Right now, I was busy. The world went black.

"Oh, oww."

For the second time in as many weeks, I woke up in the hospital. Blinking groggily, I looked around.  _How'd I get here? This isn't typical Sunnydale décor_. A flash of gold caught my eye. My head spun rapidly, searching for the source of the gold. I found it quickly.

Tara was sitting in a chair next to me. Well, slouching would be a better word. She was practically laying on my bed, with only her legs in the chair. Well, that explained how I got here. I shifted, trying to ease the ache in my legs that came from far too much time stationary. "Ow. Oh, fun."

"Huh? Willow? Oh, thank the Goddess! You're awake! How do you feel?" Oops. I hadn't meant to wake Tara up. Seemed like she needed rest.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. You should sleep more." I barely paused at that, and just jumped headfirst back into my babble. "What happened, how'd I get here, and how long have I been here? Oh, god, I didn't go into another coma, did I? Two comas in a week is bad. Even if I do feel better. Sore, but better." I knew I was babbling, but I couldn't seem to stop.

"No, Willow not a coma. Wait, when were you in a coma before? Nevermind, you've been in here for a couple hours. I brought you in when you passed out. You scared me, you know? Don't do that to me." She smiled at me, brave front and all, but I could see that underneath she had been seriously worried.

"Yeah, not something I plan on making a habit out of. So not worth the effort. Are you all right?" My sentence had started out flippantly, but changed at the end to something much more sincere. Tara looked like hell- this was the second time today I'd freaked her out by passing out. God, this was the second time today I'd freaked myself out! "Yep, no more passing out. I can do that."

Again she smiled, but this time it looked more real. I thought back over what had happened. "Okay, I remember being in the motel, and I showed you my cuts. You touched one, and it hurt. It was infected?" Off her nod I continued. "I felt awful, then everything started to fade to black. Last thing I remember is you. What did you call me?" I was genuinely curious. It hadn't sounded like any language I had heard before.

For some reason, she blushed. "Um, I said 'roşii frumoase'. It's Romanian, my mom's side of the family were all gypsies, so she taught me some things. I'm sorry about bringing you here, I know you didn't want to go, I just kinda panicked." Her attempt at changing the subject was not lost upon me.

"Good try. What does ro-, ros-, um, that phrase mean?" There was no way I was going to let this go. Guess she could see that.

"Beautiful red." She looked down, blushing again, then seemed to gather her courage and looked back up at me. There was a look in her eye that I couldn't decipher, but I could easily see fear and hope warring in her lovely azure eyes.

"That is… so sweet!" And it really was. No one ever cared enough to give me a nickname, let alone such a flattering one. "Hey, no fair! I don't speak another language, well except for some Spanish and a teeny bit of Latin."

She choked a laugh out, then started laughing uncontrollably. Before I could do anything other than sit up, her laughter had turned into sobs. I pulled her up to sit on the bed next to me and rocked her, her head buried in my chest as she cried. "Hey, hey, now, its all good, I'm okay, you're okay- you are okay?" She nodded. "Well then, nothing's gonna stop us from getting a newspaper and finding a place. Then we enroll in the high school here, graduate at the top of our class, and get a scholarship to a good school. See? Everything's fine."

I could only imagine what Tara must have been feeling. The entire day was an emotional roller-coaster. It was harsh on me, and I didn't have to deal with telling about my family's abuse, or having my new friend pass out- twice.

I rocked her, just letting her cry. The soothing words flowed out of me, and I stroked her hair gently. She needed this, it would help her. Then she really needed rest.

Tara sat up, awkwardly swiping at her tears. "You don't ask for much, do you?" I shook my head. "Well, that's good. I'm glad you're okay. You wanna get out of here?"

 _Do I ever_. "Oh yeah." I swung out of bed, staggering as a wave of dizziness washed over me. "Urgh, head rush." Tara caught me before I could fall over. "We gotta stop doing this." I smiled up at her. She giggled, then I saw her eyes change. They darkened, turning from the cerulean I was used to into a deep sapphire that sparked a fluttering low in my stomach.

I took in our position, and gulped as I realized how close we were. Our faces were inches apart, so close we were breathing the same air. I could read her intent in her eyes, and it was reciprocated in me. At that moment I knew that it didn't matter if Tara was a girl, a guy, or a dancing bear, there was no way I wouldn't love her.  _Love?_

My breath- and my thoughts- stopped as her head began to drop towards mine. She paused, and I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. Wanting to reassure her, as well as really wanting to kiss her, I pressed my head up and met her lips with my own.

It was unbelievable.

The instant our lips touched, my world exploded. All my senses were on overload, my heart was racing, and I could feel myself getting dizzy. I had never imagined a kiss could be this amazing. Of course, the doctor had to pick that exact moment to walk in.

The door swung open, thudding against the wall. We leapt apart as if burned, with me whacking into the bed. Thankfully, the doctor had his nose buried in a chart, and didn’t notice our panting breath or the furious blushes decorating our faces.

"Ms. Rosenburg! Glad to see you're up and feeling better. I know you want to get out of here, and I can give you a clean bill of health. There's just a few forms you have to sign at the front when you leave, and a prescription to pick up, and you're good to go!" With that, he turned and left, not having looked up once. We could have made out the entire time he was there and I don't think he would have noticed.

I turned to Tara, wanting to talk about our aborted kiss, but she cut me off. "Your clothes are over there. W-we should probably get going, it would be nice to enroll before the break ends." Her stutter gave away her nervousness, and when I tried to take her arm, she flinched back.

Sighing, I set my clothes on the bed and stripped off the hospital gown. A choked noise from behind me made me turn. Tara was staring, her face flushed and eyes wide. It hit me that the girl who had just kissed me (well, I kissed her, but whatever) was now faced with me. Really close to naked.  _Well. That's awkward._

I cleared my throat softly, waiting for her to look at me. She blushed even harder and turned away, dropping her head. I threw the rest of my clothes on as fast as humanly possible and walked over to her. "Hey, you okay?"

She pulled away. "Yeah. You must be getting t-tired of asking me that, huh?" The blonde didn't even glance at me as she started to walk out, keeping her gaze firmly fastened on the floor. I was not having any of that.

"Tara, wait. Come back, please?" Reluctantly, she did as I asked, although her eyes stayed down.

"Uh-uh, look at me. What's up?" Finally, she brought her eyes to mine, and I was shocked to see how sad and tired they were.

"Nothing. Can w-we please go?" I would  **not**  let her avoid this forever, but I figured the middle of the hospital wasn't a good place for a confrontation. So we left, with me unabashedly staring at her the entire time, and her avoiding my eyes.

My eyes swept over her, taking in every little detail. She was beautiful, the most gorgeous creature I had ever seen. Even the bruises marring her skin didn't detract from that beauty.

Studying her now, though, I saw that she was tired and in pain. And really uncomfortable with me.  _Well, crap. I didn't mean to freak her out, I thought she wanted to kiss me! She started it, anyway. Nice, genius, sound like a five-year-old._

* * *

We got back to the motel and the awkward silence that we had walked back in was broken. I had had enough.

"Tara, what is wrong? First you're all weepy and oh-my-god-I'm-glad-you're-okay and then you avoid me like I'm some kind of leper! I know I kissed you, but seriously, you started it." I was pouting now and I knew it. Unfair, but hey- I was desperate.

"'You started it?' What, we're in kindergarten now?" Her anger took me by surprise. I'd been expecting embarrassment or apologies, not anger. My reaction to the sharp words was not the best I could have had.

"No! But it's freaking true, dammit! You leaned in first, so I thought you wanted it. When you stopped, I took my chance and finished for you! And now you're mad about that? God, I don't get you!" Shouting now, I threw my hands in the air. "But if it's all the same to you, I'd just like to say I'm glad I did. I liked it, and if you're mad, just, just, get over it!"

Tara just sat there blinking in shock during my entire rant. I was panting by now, but my unexpected rage had left me as quickly as it had come, and I was feeling a little ashamed of my outburst. Opening my mouth to apologize, I was stopped by her lips on mine and her hands on my face. Frozen, I didn’t react at first, but the feeling of her pulling away jolted my stunned brain into action.

My hands settled on her hips, pulling her closer into me. I felt her tongue tentatively tracing the contours of my still slightly open mouth, and I opened it wider to give her access. When she didn't, I took the initiative and eased my tongue in between her lips. She tightened her grip, sliding one hand into my hair and the other on my back. The feeling of her tongue touching mine was beyond anything I'd ever felt before, and I moaned.

The moan must have startled her, because she pulled back, but kept her forehead resting on mine as we panted.

"Wow." That was the only way to describe how I felt now. Well, maybe over-the-moon, or unbelievable, or euphoric, but I couldn't get my vocal cords working enough to say any of those.

She looked unsure, though. "T-that was okay? I mean, I know you s-said you liked it, but it wasn’t too f-forward?" I smiled and kissed her again in answer. Pulling back, I could see she still had her eyes closed.

"It was perfect. Um, I'm sorry for yelling before. You got me a little… mad." Her eyes dropped once again, but I was not having that this time. Reaching out, my fingers gently nudged her chin up until she was looking at me. "You don't have to hide from me, sweetheart. I like you for Tara, and never be ashamed to be just that. You don't ever need to be scared of me."

A smile worked its way across her face and she sighed, leaning into me. "I was scared that you would hate me. For being the way I am. L-liking girls?"

Laughing, I told her, "See, that's where you're a dummy. First of all, didn't  **I**  kiss  **you**?" She looked suddenly majorly embarrassed. "And second, I could never hate you. Physical impossibility. Like someone falling upwards."

She smiled sheepishly. "I was being a little dumb, wasn't I?" Reaching over, I clasped her hands in mine.

"It's all right. The entire way here, I was so terrified you would just grab your bags and run. Such a pair, aren't we?" We were sitting down by now, and I surprised her when I gently tugged on her hands. Laying back, I patted the bed. "Come. Snuggle. It's mandatory."

Tara laughed and obeyed. "Well, I can't be breaking the rules before I even get to school, can I?" I wrapped an arm around the blonde as her head nuzzled into my chest.

"No. No, you really can't. Um, Tara? Dumb question here, but I need to know. Will you, will you be my girlfriend?" I held my breath in anticipation of the answer. It was probably dumb to be nervous after the first kiss, but that's how my brain works.

She thought deeply. "Hmm. On one condition." My heart plummeted even as I was agreeing. "That you be mine as well." Swiftly reversing its downward plunge, my heart soared through my chest and ended up somewhere in the stratosphere.

"Of course." Then I lifted my head and kissed my girlfriend.

“Damn! Who would have thought that school would cost so much!” My bank account was crying for mercy as Tara and I left the third store of the day. School restarted in two days and we both needed to get ready. There was so much to get, though! We were both loaded down like pack mules and we weren’t done yet.

“Well, only, um, two stores left. It won’t be that much more, really!” Tara was trying to be optimistic; I could hear it in her voice. Sadly for the both of us, I had given up.

“I don’t care how much more it is! I’m tired, and hungry, and we don’t have to be done for two more days. I wanna go home and snuggle my girlfriend, and if you don’t like it, I’ll do it on my own!” She just looked at me. “Okay, fine, I can’t snuggle you without you actually there. But can we stop for today? My arms hurt, and we can finish tomorrow.”

“I guess. I thought you were the super-organized one. With the different colored pens, and permanent A’s. Why am I suddenly the responsible one here, huh?” She laughed. _I’m glad you find amusement in my pain. Really._

I growled at her. My patience had vanished two hours and eighty dollars ago. Her teasing was most emphatically not appreciated. “Oh, please. Like you’re not dying inside.”

We walked along the sidewalk bickering, drawing some strange looks from other pedestrians. Although, that could have been from the ten tons of stuff we were carrying, or the crappy clothes we had on. I guess when one runs away they aren’t all that fashion conscious.

The first stop on our outing from hell was at a clothing store, and boy did we have a ball in there. We tried on everything we could find, and made out in the fitting rooms. I was amazed the salespeople didn’t just throw us out!

Thinking of this, I realized that even though we were going out and making out, I’d never taken Tara on a proper date. And yeah, we’d only met a few days ago, but still! I wanted to spoil my girl. Our money situation might make that tricky though.  _Hmm. I don’t think my parents would mind helping me make Tara happy. They love kids! Well sort of not really, and Tara’s not a kid, but whatever. They’ll help me. They just won’t know. And really, they’re supposed to take care of me, so it’s only right that they share the wealth._

Thoughts like this could be classified as dangerous, but none of my parental issues had gone away. I figured they owed me for near-abandonment, and it was time to collect. Nodding, my resolve face firmly in place, I formulated a plan in my mind to get money from my parent’s account and take Tara somewhere nice.

“Um, Willow sweetie? I know you’re tired and all, but is there a reason for that face?” Poor Tara looked a bit intimidated.

“Congratulations Tara, you’ve just had your first encounter with the infamous ‘resolve face’. See it and tremble, for none can stand before it. Well, they can, but not without giving in to it.” It was true, too. On the few instances where I had both reason and opportunity, my resolve face never failed me. Kept me outta trouble with my parents quite a few times- just flash it to the nanny and watch her fold.

“Yeah. Uh-huh. Very nice. Let’s go, we still have two stores to hit.”

“What? Tara? Noooo…”

* * *

I dragged my tired ass through the door and into bed. “You are a meanie and a tyrant. How did you resist my resolve face? No one can resist the resolve face! It’s like impossible!” Tact was not a word in my vocabulary at this particular moment. Too tired to care, you know?

The blonde shrugged. “When you’ve faced down my mother’s puppy-dog pout, you can face down anything. Also, I know you weren’t thinking about shopping when you had it on, so spill.”

 _Wow. She’s good_. “All right, all right. Will you go out with me?”

She looked confused. “Didn’t we cover this yesterday? Yeah, I’m your girlfriend.”

“No, I mean go out. On a date. With me. Please?” Now I felt like an idiot.

A pleased grin started working its way across Tara's face. It developed into the most brilliant smile I'd ever seen, and then I was enveloped in a whirlwind of blonde hair and kisses. "You *kiss* are *kiss kiss* the SWEETEST *nibble* girlfriend *kiss* I have ever *lick* had!" Well, maybe more than just kisses, but hell, I wasn't complaining!

"Tomorrow I'm taking you somewhere nice. Somewhere good enough for you." I had to gently push her away, saying, "Come on, if we're being all responsible, we should organize this all." This was said with not a little reluctance. I didn’t want to let go any more than she did, if that massive pout was any indication.

It was too good to pass up. I leaned in and caught the offending lip between my teeth, licking all along it and then sucking as much as I could into my mouth. The blonde moaned, deep in her throat, and I felt her legs tremble next to mine. As quickly as I could, I jumped back, flashing a cheerful grin her way, and exclaimed, "Well come on Tara, time's a-wasting!"

The look on her face was priceless. I bet people would pay money to see it. She was swaying, face flushed, panting hard. On top of that was an expression of such shock that it was a wonder to me how she wasn't just keeling over. I shot another cheeky grin her way, then got serious. "Really, Tara, we need to find an apartment soon. Can you grab the paper next to you?"

She sighed, resigning herself to her smoochie-less fate. We then spent the next hour and a half going through the five newspapers I had bought. When we finished, she threw them all across the room and jumped on me. The predatory look in her eye made me gulp, as did her hair trailing across my face as she leaned into me, purring, "You are going to regret being such a vixen, Miss Rosenburg."

I shuddered, then somehow found the strength to reply. "Oh really. Is that right, Miss Maclay?"

She grinned. I gulped.  _Oh boy._  "Count on it."

The instant her lips touched mine I knew I was in trouble. The taste of Tara on my lips drove me wild with desire. The little lightning bolts shooting from our joined mouths straight to my center didn't help at all either. Moaning, I wrapped my arms around her, drawing her tighter into me. Our lips parted, allowing tongues to come into play, fighting a battle for dominance that neither of us particularly wanted to win. I felt one of her hands tangle almost painfully in my hair as the other ran down to my stomach. It slipped under my shirt, leaving trails of fire in its wake. I felt an almost savage need for the blonde, to have something that was mine.

I flipped us over, landing firmly on top of her. My lips landed on hers again, almost too hard for a second before I drew back a little and soothed the bruised flesh with my tongue. My hands traced the same path hers had taken just seconds earlier, but on her body, and a little lower. She whimpered under me, hands coming up to rest on my shoulders. I drew back, letting our lips disconnect. "You okay, baby?"

She was flushed and panting, but even the incredibly sexy sight of an aroused Tara couldn't cover the sudden fear in her eyes. She pushed at me gently, begging with her eyes for me to move. I did so without complaint, sitting up and taking her with me. She immediately burrowed into my arms, hiding her face in my hair.

"I c-can't," she sniffled, "it's too much, too fast. I know I started it and all, but it's... I just... I can't." I felt for her. I wasn't mad, or upset, or anything she might have thought. Relationships needed time to develop before getting this intimate. It made sense. I just wished I'd thought of it before.

"I'm s-sorry."

Those two words confused me. What did she have to be sorry about? If anything, I should be apologizing. I'd practically pinned her down!  **Oh, god…**

"Tara I am so sorry. I completely spaced about… everything with your family. We can go as slow as you want, nothing more, nothing less. But don't blame yourself, okay? Not your fault. Nothing to be sorry for. Now seriously love, look at me."

Throughout my entire (seriously guilty) speech, she hadn't once raised her head. As she did, frightened tears glistening at the corners of her beautiful blue eyes caught me off guard. The terror I'd seen was unbelievable. Before my brain could catch up to my body, I'd pulled away and strode for the door, rage in every pore of my body. I wanted blood- and I knew whose.

"W-Willow? Where are you g-going?" The sound of her stutter reappearing only fueled my anger more. The determination to go out and destroy every little bit of those scum who'd put the fear in my beauty's eyes boiled through my blood.

"I'm gonna kill them. A lot. No one should be able hurt you and get away with it, especially not family." I spat the last word out as if it were poison in my mouth, disgust at those… creatures dripping from my words. Sure, I had my difficulties with my parents, but this went beyond a little indifference. This was calculated hurt, and pleasure gained from pain.

I couldn't even think about Donnie. If I thought about it, how he used his sister in that way, how he beat her down and raped her, I would explode. Even without thinking about it, I was pretty damn close.

"W-what? You're gonna kill who? My family? They're not worth it, my roşii." The word brought me up short. The love infused into that one little word made me realize that no matter how mad I was, anger and revenge wouldn't get me anything, and would probably lose me my Tara. Still, my mini-epiphany didn’t stop me from being mad.

"They hurt you. They have to pay." She grabbed me, spinning me to face her. My eyes widened- she was pissed now.

"Will you please listen to me? Yes, they hurt me, you're mad. I don't blame you- I'm angry as well. But think, Will, you get thrown in jail, how will I see you? Through a little glass window? They're. Not. Worth. It. They're not worth throwing your life away for. Now if they come down here, I'll gladly let you at 'em. Actually, I probably won't, but still. I lo-" Her eyes widened, and she scrambled to cover a slip I wasn't sure I had heard. "I mean, you mean so much to me already, I don't want them to take that away as well. Do, do you get it at all?"

 _Do I ever._  "I do. And for what it's worth, I am, you know."

She looked at me quizzically, her head cocked to the side. "What?"

I looked straight into her eyes, letting her see everything about me. The good, the bad, the monumentally fucked up. Nothing hidden, nothing made up. Just me, shown to her in all honesty as I answered.

"Yours."

I woke up slowly the next morning. My entire body was warm and comfortable, lulling me back into dreamland. Snuggling into my pillow, my drowsy brain noticed that it was warmer than when I'd fallen asleep. It was softer too, and was it… moving? Suddenly my eyes popped open.  _Oh, hell. Please let her be asleep. God, if you love me, let her be asleep._

My eyes slowly ventured up Tara's body, lingering on the incredibly luscious chest I was currently resting on.  _Hell_. Blue eyes awaited me, mirth dancing in the cobalt depths. "Comfy?" She inquired innocently. The edge of laughter in her voice was the only thing betraying how close to total hilarity she was.

"Eeep!" I squeaked and dived beneath covers. This served only to bring me face-to-face (well, maybe not face-to- **face** ) with her barely clothed legs. " **Eeep**!"

I popped back out faster than I'd dived in, but backed off, putting a small but respectable distance between us. Tara was shaking with laughter, and the little blood that wasn't throbbing in my clit rushed to my face in a red-hot blush. "Oh, sweetie, I wish you could see your face right now!"

Yeah, she was laughing at me. If I wasn't so busy not thinking about a scantily-clad Tara laying mere inches away from me, I'd probably have resented that. As it was, my brain was distracted.

A thought occurred to me- why was Tara in my bed? We did have two. "Tara? Not that I'm complaining, because believe me, I'm not, but, um… Why are you in my bed? I thought we had two so you wouldn't have to share." She looked down briefly, and I saw her face fall. "Don't get me wrong, I love waking up with you, I'm just wondering."

She glanced up at me and sighed. "I know. I'm not offended. I, um, I had a nightmare." She admitted it grudgingly, like she thought it was a sign of weakness or something. "I woke up, and I thought I was back home. I… I wanted to be sure you were still here. And that they weren't."

Impulsively, I scooted up the bed and pulled her into me, laying her head on my chest and wrapping my arms around her. I combed my fingers through her hair as I spoke. "I'm here, baby, and I'm not going anywhere. Now, no moping. Today is out last stress-free day before school starts. I'm taking you out tonight to show you how permanent I am, and we've laid in bed all morning. Now scoot missy, get your butt outta bed!"

* * *

After several hours of rushing around and frantic phone calls, I was forced to stop and rest. Simply put, I ran out of things to do.

The date was arranged to my total satisfaction. It didn't cost me as much as I had anticipated, and Tara was gone, kicked out of the house so I could set everything up without her hearing. She was running errands and viewing potential apartments. She had protested at first, but I had told her that if she liked it, I would too.

My reluctance to tell her what we were doing didn't sit well with her, though. She had said that she didn't like surprises, that she should know what was going on. My counter to this was simple- 'Do you trust me?' She couldn't argue after that. I still felt a bit guilty, even with her acquiescence. _I'll make it up to her. It's for her own good, anyway._

I sat on the bed, at a bit of a loss. We had reservations at a New Mexican restaurant, La Hacienda, at six thirty. Tara was supposed to be home by six fifteen so we had time to walk over. I caught a glimpse at the clock, and shrieked. "Five? It can't be five already! I have to get dressed!" And on that note, my rushing continued.

* * *

A shy knock on the door drew my attention from the two necklaces I was contemplating. I threw both on and went to answer it. There stood Tara, a smile on her face and a bouquet in her hands. She looked  **incredible**.

A long black skirt with a tantalizing sight of skin peeking through a slit up her thigh. Silky blue blouse that didn't leave all that much to the imagination. Heavy black boots that vanished up her skirt, and bangles and a choker as accessories.

She thrust the flowers at me, saying "I know they're not roses, but I wanted you to have them." My mouth hung open and I shut it with a snap.

"They're beautiful. You look… that's… wow." Complete sentences were outside my capabilities at the moment. She blushed, and shook her head. "No, really, I've never seen anyone so amazing."

She smiled faintly. "I'm all right. You're the real beauty here."

I chuckled. "Much as I would enjoy standing here complimenting you all night, we gotta go." My watch beeped, emphasizing my point. "You, my dear, are late!" With that, I grabbed her hand and dragged her out the door.

 _I hope she likes this._

I swept open the door, bowing low. "My lady, your dinner awaits."

Tara giggled. "Why thank you, kind sir."

"Kind sir?  **Kind sir**? Why am I the butch one?" Whiny, yeah, but hey- I'm not butchy. Much.

"Well, you are wearing the pants here." Damn, she was right. "Although I gotta say Willow, I like you in leather." Blushing, I shoved her playfully. Leather pants may look good on me, but it was very far from comfortable. All tight and squeaky and altogether not me, which is exactly why I was wearing them, of course. Remaking me into what I could have been. This was a bit extreme, I had to admit, but I kinda liked the bad-ass feeling. The look I got from Tara when she saw it? That was cool too.

Looking around the restaurant, I thought I'd made a good choice. It wasn't expensive, but it had a vibe to it that spoke of classiness. Also, it wasn't a typical Mexican restaurant. There wasn't any cheesy mariache music playing, and no obnoxious toddlers screaming and running everywhere. It was quiet, and cozy, with tables in the center of the room and booths lining the walls. I liked it, and judging from the look on Tara's face, she did too.

The hostess approached with the stereotypical fake smile, leading us to a booth in the back when I gave my name.  _Nice and private_ , my subconscious exclaimed. "Okay, so leather, check. Now the real question: do you like spicy food?" I probably should have thought of that before, especially since I planned for anything and everything else. You know, snow, muggers, attacking frogs- everyday things that can go wrong.

Her smile dispelled any doubts I might have had. "Love it. I didn’t get it much at home. Pretty small town, you know?" It was a relief and an amazement to me that she was able to speak of home without any doubts or bitterness. It reinforced my belief of her as a truly kind person, as well as one who wouldn't hold a grudge. Sunnydale would be a sore spot for me to even think about for a long while yet.

Focusing on the blonde-haired, blue-eyed goddess sitting across from me, I shoved my thoughts away. "I'm glad. The food's New Mexican, so-" her sudden squeal made me jump.

"Ooooh! I love New Mexican! You, dear Sir Willow, have good taste." Conversation flowed freely from there. Our main topic of discussion was school tomorrow. I admit, I bragged a little, but I was then shamed into silence with her own academic accomplishments.

"Okay, so on top of being an honor student for like ever, you painted? For money? That makes me feel… well, still smart, but less over-the-top know-it-all." She was blushing a light pink that was both incredibly cute and unbelievably sexy.

We were interrupted with the arrival of our food. Quesadilla for me, posole1 for her. We took one look at the other's dish and shoved them both to the center of the table. When the time came for dessert, I called for the check instead. "What? No dessert?" Oh that pout was good.

"No, baby, I have other plans for dessert." She pouted more. My voice went up an octave or two. "Nope. Pout won't work on me. No way. Uh-uh." My god that lip looked edible, all stuck out and gently glistening and I just wanted to- " **CHECK!** "

* * *

Strolling along in a park I'd found on my laptop, our heads were tilted back as we gazed at the stars. We held hands, just reveling in the peaceful quiet surrounding us. "Look- Orion, and Andromeda. My favorites." I pointed with my free hand, tracing their invisible lines.

"There's the big Pineapple." Her own hand rose, pointing to the heavens.

"Um, you know, I'm not sure I remember that one." Somehow it didn't surprise me that this wonderful girl held surprises even for the stars.

"The- the real ones never made sense to me." She smiled sheepishly, and looked away. Grinning, I rested my head on her shoulder.

"Teach me?"

* * *

We'd walked almost the entire length of the park, and as we drew close to the edge, I veered off into a sideways path. Motioning for Tara to follow, I ducked into a little glade I'd found earlier. A picnic blanket and a basket rested on the grass. A single rose adorned the top. "I told you I had plans for dessert."

Her hands flew to cover her mouth. Tears sparkled at the corners of her eyes, frightening me. "Tara? If you don't like it we can go get ice cream or something. Whatever you want. There's gotta be a decent ice cream place in LA. God, I need a cell phone." I wrung my hands nervously.

"Oh, goddess, Willow. This is amazing! When did you do this?"

"When I kicked you out earlier. That's when I made all of the arrangements." She hugged me spontaneously. "Hey, we haven't even gotten to dessert yet." I sat down on the blanket, patting the space next to me for her to join me. She complied, sinking gracefully down into a cross-legged position. Yanking the lid of the cooler open, I produced chocolate, fruit, and chocolate-covered fruit. As well as chocolate in fruit shapes. Always best to be prepared!

"Willow, I'm not worth all this." Tara's voice was dead serious. I didn't like that, so I went for a joke to ease the mood.

"That's my line! Don't you be stealin' my lines!" She just looked at me, confused. She'd never heard my full story, just the abridged version. It must not have revealed the feelings behind my crazy stunts. From the look on her face, she wasn't going to let me off the hook without telling the full story.

I sighed. "Remember how I told you about me?" She nodded. "I did all that because I thought I was worthless, a waste of space. My parents ignored me, at school I was just there to do other people's work. I was the tragic nerd, no friends or even allies. After a while, I just went numb inside. Cutting made me feel alive, without the pain of living.

"The day it all went to hell? I think a new kid transferred in, a smart one. All of a sudden, my standing was gone. I wasn't worth a single thing. I ran out in the middle of class, ended up on Kingman's Bluff. Couldn't take the pain anymore. I jumped. Woke up in the hospital. Doctor said I'd been in a coma for five days. Realized there wasn't anything in town for me, wanted a fresh start. Took the next bus outta Sunnydale." My sentences had gotten briefer as I'd continued. It was probably a coping mechanism to deal with a pain that was still fresh.

Pulling up my pant leg, I gestured to the still-visible lacerations. "I got these in the jump. Fun, aren't they? You've already seen my arms." For the first time since starting my maudlin tale, I looked at Tara. She looked… positively horrified. I stood slowly. "I'll go now."

She threw out her hands, catching my hand. "Go? Go where? Why are you going somewhere?"

 _Obvious much?_  "You don't want to be around me. Suicidal cutter freak, remember?" My head dropped, and my hands unconsciously traced the lines on my forearms.

"Yeah, and I'm the abused girl whose brother r-raped her. Why don't you walk away from me?" My head shot up.

"No! You're a good person. What happened to you doesn't change who you are. And who you are is an amazing, kind, beautiful person who I lo- like very much." She was not allowed to put herself down.

"Willow, don't you see? The same can be said for you. Even if you don't believe me, I'm not letting you go." I looked at her pensively. What if she was wrong? What if I hurt her, or myself? Maybe- no. it was her choice. I wasn't leaving until she told me to.

"It's funny." I mused as I sat back down.

"What?" She pulled me down, resting my head in her lap, long fingers stroking my hair.

"All this time I've been with you? I've never wanted to cut once. You make me special. Worth something. And that's the greatest thing in the world."

"Mmm… nice."  _Oooh nice dream… Wait… What's that?_  An irritating ringing cut through the dream-fog clouding my mind with the nice pictures.  _Noooo…_  Already, barely a second later, the dream was fading, and all I was left with was a lingering feeling of arousal. Groaning, I rolled over to shut off the alarm clock, hissing when my rock-hard nipples brushed the sheets.

A flash of blonde from the corner of my eye made me turn fully, spying a sleeping Tara. Laughter burst out of me, startling me with it's suddenness, but really, I couldn't help it. She'd managed to get so epically tangled up, sheets twisted and pillows everywhere. And she looked so... comfy.  _Unfair. Really._

I took a deep breath, trying to force down the arousal that was so ever-present, amplified now that I looked at her. Didn't work. So I thought of all the icky and seriously not hot things I could. _Frogs. Rivers. Sea. Blue. Blue eyes, blond hair… no! Horses. Horseback riders. Tara in riding clothes. Ah, crap! Evil bitch queens who made you jump off cliffs_. That last did it. Sufficiently not horny, I was able to face the day in a mildly less wet state.

Sneaking out of my bed, trying to be as quiet as possible, I made my way over to her bed. I took a moment to just look at her, seeing the peace on her face, so rarely present in her waking state. So beautiful. For a minute I just watched and worshipped silently. Then I pounced.

Jumping on the bed, I pulled the covers off with a flourish, studiously ignoring all the Tara-skin visible. "Come on! Get up! First day of school! You're late, Tara!" No reaction except a moan. All righty then, I switched tactics. Tickling up and down her ribs, and poking her at odd intervals, I kept yelling. Nothing. God. _All right, big guns_.

I rolled her over, moving to lay on my side facing her. Brushing the hair off her face, I planted gentle kisses all over her face, ending with her lips. That got an immediate reaction. Her arms came up, drawing me closer to her. A tongue traced my lips, so I let in, indulging in a few minutes of steamy kisses before pulling back. "Tara? Babe, get up. School."

She was awake, but barely. She was also extremely unhappy about being awake. "Fuck school, come snuggle." My eyes widened. Tara never cursed, ever, and that was like the mother of all curses. Huh. I decided I liked this more assertive Tara.

"Wish I could, sweetheart, but we can't skip the first day." She moaned again, but rolled off the bed, stumbling as she went for the light. Switching it on, we both yelped, covering our eyes from the harsh glare.

Glaring at it with her eyes slitted, she growled. It was seriously hot. I approved. "Why the hell does school start so early? The sun's not even up yet!" Well, she was still mad. And right. I mean, really, six? Too early.

I dragged my own self out of her nice warm comfy bed and stood up. "If we hurry, we can get a sit-down breakfast and some good coffee rather than try to eat on the run. You want the shower first?"  _We could always take one together, save water… No! Bad me._

"Sure, thanks." She walked over to her suitcase and pulled out some clothes, then made her way to the bathroom. The door swung shut and I heard the shower start. I moved to my own trunk and pulled out the first clothes that I could grab. Unfortunately, they weren't anything I was comfortable with wearing, tight black jeans and a green silk top. I started to put them back, but then stopped. Who knows me here? What image do I have to uphold? None. Why not take a chance and see what happens? So decided, I stood again and sat on the bed to wait.

* * *

I was woken again by Tara shaking me. "Willow? Come on, that’s not fair, getting me outta bed and then going back to sleep." I jolted up, nerves humming. _Oh, boy_. My arousal was back and it brought friends. Couldn't I at least remember the dreams. Mumbling something, I went into the shower and turned the knob to icy cold. The shock woke me up thoroughly, which was a plus. I was not going to go through my first day at a new school sleepy and completely horny. It just wouldn't do.

My mind drifted anyway, despite the freezing temperature. Before I knew what I was doing, my hand had found itself firmly between my legs, stroking over the triangle of hair there. I jerked back, and went through the rest of my shower as fast as I could. It would be so wrong to pleasure myself with my girlfriend in the other room. Anyway, we were on a schedule here.

 _Riiight. Just keep telling yourself that._

* * *

After I was out and dressed, we headed out to a small diner Tara had noticed on one of her walks. Sitting, I brought up the subject both of us had been avoiding- money and a place to stay. "We need to find an apartment soon. I don't know about you, but I can't stay in that motel much longer. Scuzzy." I could pay for that teeny room for the rest of my life and still have more money than I needed, but my nerves and my senses couldn't take it anymore. Also, I didn’t want Tara there any longer than she had to be.

"I know. I saw an ad in the paper for a medium apartment. The open house is tonight, if you want to go. I've got some money, not much, but if you need it…" The conclusion was implied. _If you need it, it's all yours_. I so wasn't taking her money. Having her was enough, anything more would just be overkill. And anyway, I liked spoiling her.

"It's cool, but thanks. We'll go today, check it out. If it's not what you want, we'll keep looking. And- oh hell!" I'd checked my watch idly, and couldn't believe the time. We'd been sitting here for almost an hour! "We're late! Come on!" I threw some bills down, grabbed our coffees, and booked it.

I couldn't help but remember the tragedy that my last high school experience had been. Even thinking about it made me scared. Maybe it'll turn out the same, no friends, no life, just pain.  _God, I thought I was over this! And that won't happen anyway, I've got a Tara to make me worth something. A Tara to love._

 _Here we go…_

“Woah. Thassa big school.” Slack-jawed, we stared at the massive building that claimed to be…  **part**  of a high school. It wasn’t even the whole thing, and Sunnydale High could fit into it! Twice! It was seriously intimidating, and my unfamiliar clothes didn’t help calm my nerves any. If anything, they made it worse.

Tara seemed to agree with me. “Um… wow. A-are we supposed to, you know, get to class on time? Because I’m lost already.”

“This is the building with the administrative offices, right?” She nodded in confirmation. “All we gotta do is go in, get our schedules and some maps, and we’ll find our classes.” I was determined to stay positive. I was not going to let my past bring us down. But god was it hard, especially with that behemoth looming. “So, let’s go then.”

* * *

As we walked into the building, I was struck by a sense of déjà vu. It seemed like just a few days ago that I had stepped into Sunnydale High for the first time, and the feeling I had now, nerves and a little bit of excitement, was just the same as before. Of course, compared to this place, Sunnydale was a run-down shack, but what can you do? It was the only school in LA that was in the area we’d ended up in.

A brass sign caught my eye. It read ‘Administration’. Veering over, I opened the door and let Tara through before entering myself and shutting the door behind me. A woman, maybe twenty, was seated at the desk in front of me. From her positioning, she was a secretary, but if I was going by her clothes, she was the superintendent.  _Oh hell. What did I get us into?_ “Can I help you?”

She sounded impatient, like we weren’t worth wasting her time over. It grated on my nerves, and my back stiffened, fear put on hold for another time. “Yes, as a matter of fact you can. I’m Willow, and this is Tara. We’re new, and were told to come here to pick up everything we needed.” I saw recognition light her eyes, as well as something I didn’t recognize.

“Of course! I was told you were on your way. Dr. Calendar will see you now.” She pointed to a door behind her. Her demeanor had changed, going from snooty upper-class lady to helpful and almost… servile. Weird.

“Dr. C-Calendar? She’s the p-principal?” I vaguely recognized the name, but I didn’t get why Tara seemed so scared of her. Whatever it was had brought out her stutter again, and that was not okay with me. The secretary, Ms. Jenkins from her nameplate, nodded and gestured again to the door. Moving closer, I took Tara’s hand, comforting her with my presence. She flashed me a grateful smile and we moved together into the door indicated for us.

* * *

Dr. Calendar, or the woman I presumed was Dr. Calendar, was seated behind a desk in a beautifully furnished office. The walls were a deep red, with a lighter cream carpet. There were paintings all around, and I assumed all the furniture was antique. Looking at the doctor herself, I felt an immediate sense of comfort. She was young, mid-thirties maybe, and quite short. Black hair fell to her shoulders, and there was a discernable twinkle in her eyes. Her clothes were amazing, admittedly, but she didn’t look at us like we were gum on the bottom of her shoe.

“Welcome to Winters High! You must be Ms. Brighton, and Ms. Chase. I’ve been very excited to meet you both. Ms. Chase, you’re transferring from… Sunnydale, is that correct?” It took me a second to respond. I’d forgotten that I changed our names. Off my nod, she continued. “And Ms. Brighton, from… what’s this, Mark’s Landing?” Tara nodded timidly. “Impressive.”

I couldn’t belive my ears. Mark’s Landing was known as the playground of the ultra-rich. It was one of the most exclusive places to live in the world, even if there wasn’t an actual list. If you didn’t have the money, you would go broke within a year. Tara was from there, but she said she was flat broke. What the hell was she playing at?

It was a huge assumption to make, but the way she was behaving was only validating my thoughts. Not looking at me, hiding her face, not even speaking... it was suspicious. If it wasn't true she'd tell me, right? Or at least look at me, since she couldn't say anything in front of Dr. Calendar. But all she did was look down.

I looked sharply at Tara, but she was staring at the ground, avoiding my eyes. Suddenly, I remembered a story I’d caught on TV about a month ago. The Landing’s most famous and loaded family had lost a daughter. They wouldn’t reveal anything about the circumstances surrounding her disappearance, only that the girl was unstable and needed to be brought back to where they could take care of her. The girl’s name was Danielle Maclay!

The only reason that story stuck with me was that it seemed weird. A girl goes missing and all her father says is that she’s crazy? Normally I didn’t give a crap about celebrities, but I felt bad for the girl. Could she be Tara? Why would she lie to me? I wouldn’t care what her name was, nor how much money she had. Didn’t she trust me?

My thoughts were interrupted as Dr. Calendar continued with her speech. “I’m sure you girls will fit right in here. Yes, the campus is large, but you’ll be right at home in no time. Here are your schedules, and a map each. Class starts at eight every day. Don’t be late, respect your teachers, and do your work. I’m sure we’ll have a great relationship. If you’re lucky, I’ll forget your names. Now get moving, you’ve only got ten minutes to find your first class.” We shook hands with her, and left.

* * *

We'd walked all the way to the quad in silence. I was taking that as proof of Calendar's claims. Tara had lied to me, and now I knew. What the hell was going on here?

Mad wouldn’t even begin to cover how I felt right now, but there wasn’t any time for an argument. “We should get going. I have math, I’m heading that way. I’ll see you later.” It hurt too much to look at her right now, so I didn’t. Somehow I knew I was being irrational, but I ignored it. I’d analyze during the day and could talk objectively later. Of course, my entire day would be devoted to school, so it might take m a while. Maybe I’d think during lunch.

“Willow please, please just listen to me! I-” No. I wasn’t going to listen right now. Now I was irrational, and hurt, and angry. Now I was probably overreacting, but whatever. Now I would be petty and mean, and later I’d apologize and be extremely attentive. I cut her off.

“I’m gonna be late. I’ll see you later for the open house.” With that, I walked away.

* * *

All through my math class I was only half-listening. It was a simple class for me, so I didn’t have to devote my full attention to it. The teacher, a mean-tempered woman by the name of Ms. DiJoya, made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself, forever imprinting herself in my mind as a bitch. Surprisingly, it didn’t go badly. No stumbles, stutters, or babbles. I sounded sane, which was an accomplishment.

For the rest of the period, I contemplated my Tara predicament. Absently taking notes, I was thinking it through in my head.  _I get why she did it. She wants to hide, and telling everyone you meet that you’re a Landing Maclay is not hiding. Still, I thought she would have trusted me. Well, why would she? What have you done for her? You haven’t been totally honest about your family either, have you?_

I winced at that thought. No, I hadn’t been totally honest. She knew I had some money, but if she knew how much I really had, she would probably be amazed.  _Or not. Either way, I don’t think she was lying about the abuse. The Maclays are really, really famous, but I never heard about a second daughter until that news broadcast. The mother died, and there was something about a miscarriage…seventeen years ago… oh hell…_

What if Tara was the ‘miscarried’ child? I knew that her father was not a feminist in any sense of the word, but would he go so far as to hide her existence? And what about the whole name thing? It’s easy enough to lie in words, but on the transcripts? _I changed it. Right_. I’d had to enter a whole new name, I couldn’t just change the last.

A new thought struck me. If this whole thing wasn’t some immense lie, then her family would be looking for her. They were rich, and powerful, and from Tara’s condition when I first met her, ruthless and unutterably cruel. I had no doubt that they would send people searching for her. If I was there when they found her, I would be in danger as well.

If Tara was telling the truth, then I was mixed up in something so massively huge it was beyond my mind’s capacity to believe. It was undoubtedly dangerous, and would most likely end in tragedy for both of us. Why would I stick around?

 _Because I love her._

And so it was decided. But first I had to tell her.

After four more periods of utter monotony, my lunch period finally came around. I had the same one conclusion that I'd had this morning. Willow + Tara = Good. That was also pretty much the only notes I took today. Now if only I could find her to tell her that. I'd been looking for nearly fifteen minutes, but this goddamn campus was massive! My lunch break was going to end in half an hour and I had only covered a fraction of the grounds.

I took drastic actions. Spinning around, I launched into a quick jog that wouldn't seem urgent but would move me faster across the campus. Before long, the administration building loomed up before me. I paused for a few minutes outside to catch my breath and let the flush from the exertion recede. Smoothing my hair back, I shoved open the doors and marched inside.

Thanking every god in existence for the fact that I was such a good liar, I ventured back into the office. Ms. Jenkins was right where we'd left her, only a bit more bored. She perked right up when she saw me, though. Her magazine, The Capitalist, explained that. I guess she thought I was related to Tara.

Marching up to her, my mask slid into place. "Ms. Jenkins, it would be absolutely fabulous if you could get me another copy of Tara's schedule. There's some arrangements to be made that require us to know where she is, and you wouldn't want her to give up her own copy, would you?" I finished my request-cum-threat with an icy smile that left absolutely no doubt as to what I meant.

The poor woman was so flustered. "No, Ms. Chase, of course not! I have it right here, don’t worry." Pulling a small sheet out from a printer, she flourished it at me. "Here you go. If you need me, I'll be reading about the money." I grinned.

"Here, for your trouble." I dropped a twenty on her desk and turned to leave. Behind me, Ms. Jenkins was muttering quietly to herself, something about all the lovely money. Chuckling, I unfolded the schedule she'd given me and scanned it to see where Tara was.  _Gotcha._

* * *

At the art hall, I was scanning the crowd for any sign of Tara. Blonde was in this year, apparently, but I couldn't see her platinum hair anywhere. Then, behind a wall of finished canvases, I caught a glimpse of white-blond hair and just the tiniest streak of blue. I dashed over, slowing before I reached her. Smoothing my hair back, I crept around the canvases, peeking to see what was happening.

Tara was curled up in a two-person couch, nose firmly stuck in a book. A glance at the title informed me that it was a history of Renaissance art.  _Maybe it's an Art History class?_  I'd expected -- a little foolishly -- to see Tara with one of those floppy hats, a palette in her hand, standing in front of a canvas with a rakish grin.  _Just the hat. Mmm…_

Shaking my head to clear it of distracting (but yummy) fantasy Taras, I moved towards the chair she was seated at. I maneuvered myself so I was positioned behind her, without her having even seen me. I glanced around, noting the absence of students in the little nook Tara had found for herself. Taking advantage of our solitude, I flopped myself down in the space behind her, fitting my body snugly to hers.

She jumped, only avoiding an embarrassing tumble through my quick reflexes. I caught her before she could overbalance, and immediately launched into my prepared speech. "Okay, now I need to get this out fast, so don't interrupt me please. First, I'm sorry for being such a royal bitch before. I needed to think, and I have thought it through. I don't care who you are, and I don't care if your family is the LA branch of the Mafia. I don't care if your brother is Beelzebub and your father Satanus himself. I will stick with you no matter what happens, and no matter who tries to split us up. I do admit that it's a little scary to think that there's a large man searching for us, with the express purpose of bringing you back, and probably damaging me in some unpleasant way, but I'm grateful to be here with you now, and not safe but alone at home. I love you, Tara Maclay, and nothing can change that. Um, unless you don't want me around."

I looked expectantly at her, waiting for her to say something. As the minutes ticked by, though, I began to think she wasn't going to say anything.  _Stupid! What makes you think that she'd want you? No one would want such an insensitive jerk. Oh god, she's probably gonna make me leave! I deserve it. Worthless idiot._  My face twisted, and I jumped up, convinced that Tara hated me. Mumbling something, anything, I sprinted away, trying just to find a quiet place to let loose with the emotions building up inside me.

* * *

I hadn't felt such a maelstrom of pain and fear since the day I'd thrown myself from the cliff. The temptation to take a blade to my wrists now and drain out all of my suffering was overwhelming, but for the first time in my memory, I resisted. Tara had shown me that I could live without the blade, and I was determined to honor her by turning around my life. If I couldn't have her, I could at least have the memory of how she made me feel, dependant on nothing but myself.

Finally I found a huge tree, situated in a way that made it impossible for other overly inquisitive students to see me. I was positive the only thing visible was a tiny bit of my hair, but no matter how I shifted I couldn't cover it up. Whatever. Seated here, I left all of my fears come out in one huge convulsive sob, degenerating quickly into a storm of them. Doubling over, I hid my face in my knees and cried.

Unrequited love. The hopelessness of abandonment. The loneliness you feel, even surrounded by others. I cried for all these and more, thinking of the suffering visited upon both me and my beloved by others. The base cruelty of humanity hit me at that moment, all at once. I'd never thought about how much evil could be contained within one person before this moment. Abuse. Torment. Rape. It was just too much to bear, and the only thing left to do was weep.

I'm sure I could have stayed there all day, but after a few minutes, Tara's voice filtered into my shattered consciousness. Uncharacteristically, she sounded seriously pissed. Taking this as more proof that she hated me, I drew my knees up to my chin and hid my face. Footsteps sounded, coming closer, but I sheltered myself behind my big tree. Didn’t help.

"Willow Danielle Rosenberg! You… you… stupid bitch!" My head shot up. It didn't seem right, somehow, to hear Tara swear. The thought left my mind as her enraged rant continued. "You are utterly unbelievable! You're perfectly normal this morning, better even, and then we get to school and you totally turn around! You act like the bitch queen of the world, and you don't even talk to me, then prance off on your high horse. Then you come back and flop down like everything's normal, and give me this speech about how my family's in the Mafia -- which is utterly ridiculous, by the way -- but you don't care. You say you love me, and then you run away? What the hell's wrong with you?" She seemed to be losing steam at this part, but my poor heart was tentatively perking up. She hadn't said she hated me- yet.

"Three things, Willow. One: You're an idiot. Two: My family isn't in the Mafia. I changed my records before I came here." I frowned. If she knew how to do it, why did she have me do it? Tara anticipated my question, though, and answered before I could even open my mouth. "You were just having so much fun. I didn't wanna burst your bubble. Third thing: I love you too." If I was stunned before, it was likely I wouldn't be able to talk ever again.

She appeared to think for a second, then added, "And four: You're an idiot."

My mouth opened, and shut, and opened again. I probably looked like a fish, but I didn’t care. Did Tara just say she loved me? No, she couldn't have. I must have misheard her. "Yes, I said I love you." I felt my face light up, and saw an answering smile creep up one side of Tara's face. Before I knew it, I was off the ground and in her arms.

Showering her face with kisses, I gasped out, "Oh god I love you! I was so scared, I thought you hated me."

She looked at me as if I was a Martian. "I could never hate you, sweetie. You just… need to listen sometimes. And stop reading so many conspiracy theories. It's not healthy." I nodded, ecstatic. I'd go along with anything she wanted right now. "Now, darling, we have to get back to class, but after that, we will talk. Nothing bad, just getting everything straight."

As she led us back towards the quad, I simply marveled at the dramatic change. Half an hour ago, it was all I could do to keep from cutting myself. Now, I was over the moon. I stopped thinking about it and bathed in the euphoria that overtook my soul.  _I love Tara. Tara loves me. Willow and Tara forever. Oh yeah._

"Come on sweetie, let's get you home and cleaned up." I started, shocked out of my happy fantasyland. The school gate had snuck up on me without my even noticing. I frowned, wondering how I'd managed to space so badly.

Shrugging it off, I stopped suddenly as a thought occurred to me. "Uh… Tara? Can we leave? I mean, we still have like half a day of school left. It just seems-"

I was cut off by Tara's raised eyebrow and disbelieving interjection. "School? Willow baby, school ended almost an hour ago. What were you doing all afternoon? Sleeping?"

I grinned like an idiot, the only thing in my mind Tara's casual use of the word 'baby'. It was music to my ears. It finally dawned on me that she was staring expectantly at me, apparently waiting for something. "Huh? What was the question?"

She stared at me for a second, then chuckled. "Wow, Will, way to be out of it. What were you up to all afternoon that got you so mixed up timewise? Daydreaming? Math homework? Diabolical yet tasteful plots to take over the world?" Thinking of what I really had been doing, I could only muster a weak smile at her attempt at humor. Sadly, Tara knew me too well, and spotted my hesitation. "W-Willow? Are you all right?"

The return of her stutter didn’t escape me. I knew that if I tried to lie to her, she'd know and be hurt. But, if I told her the truth -- that I'd been crying because I thought she hated me -- she'd hate herself. _Damn I hate it when it's a catch-22._  Thankfully, we got to the gates right then, and something else occurred to me.

"Oh, crap! We have the open house today! I'm all teary-eyes with the redness and people don't want to sell to some drama queen! We're screwed!" My hands fluttered uselessly through the air, waving random patterns as a testament to my panic.

The melodic sound of Tara's laughter flowed through the air, reaching my ears and calming me -- slightly. "You're a major spaz, Rosenburg. The open house isn't for an hour and a half, you've got plenty of time." I grinned sheepishly, since I knew she was right and she knew I knew.

"Yeah… I knew that."

* * *

By the time we'd reached the motel, I'd managed to calm down enough to give Tara's poor ears a break. I was eighty-four percent positive that she would have gone deaf if I'd kept talking so much. Swinging the door open, I waited for her to pass through, and shut it behind us. "Soooo…"

Another raised eyebrow greeted me. "How do you do that? I try and try, but I always end up looking like an idiot." To demonstrate, I contorted my face in an attempt to raise a single eyebrow. Tara took one look and cracked up.

"Oh, god, Willow, you look- hilarious!" I would have been offended, but the combination of Tara's joy and my current state of floaty happiness combined to leave me standing there with a stupid grin on my face, watching her laugh. A random thought floated through my mind:  _This is a girl who lived her whole life in fear and pain. She never had a friend, or someone to support her through anything. There was no light and laughter for her, not like now. She deserves -- everything. The world, my life, my love -- everything._

"W-Willow? Are you all right? You look a little-" she broke off, gesturing vaguely to her face.

I crossed the room and knelt before her, taking her hands in mine. Seeing - something - in my face, Tara sobered, looking down at me. "Tara Alyssa Maclay, I love you more than life itself. Never doubt that, and never forget it."

A smile crept onto her face, and she freed one hand, curving it around my cheek. I leaned into her, never taking my eyes off hers. "I don't, Willow. I don't know how I've found you, but I'm never letting you go. Not in this life, nor the next."

She leaned down and kissed me tenderly, then with growing passion. I felt myself being lifted, and my legs wrapped around her back, effectively seating me in her lap. She hesitated slightly, enough for me to pick up on, but before I could draw back to look at her, she'd fallen backwards, taking me with her. "Tara?"

"I love you, Willow." Her voice was strong, with no trace of a stutter. "Make love to me."

* * *

We collapsed back onto the pillows, gasping for air. "Wow."

"You can say that again."

"Wow."

"Goof."

"Yep."

She looked at me, a glint in her eyes that made my stomach flip. "Well then, goof. Wanna go again?"

I nodded eagerly, even as her lips descended down my body. "Tara!"

* * *

Hours later, we were woken by a violent banging on the door. I moaned, throwing the covers off of me, covering Tara by accident. Figuring I'd fix it later, I stumbled over to the door, throwing on a robe as I went. I cracked the door, peering out to see who was on the other side. "Hello? Can I help you?"

Two men stood there. Both were slightly unkempt, looking as if they'd been on the road a few days. One, younger than the other, stepped forward. "Yes, ma'am, I hope you can. I'm lookin' for Tara Maclay. My name's Donny, and this is our father. Have you seen her?" He held out a picture, showing a younger Tara, with dark hair. "She ran away a few weeks ago. Normally we'd let a kid go, but Tara's not all there, if you know what I mean." He made a gesture in the air next to his head. "Girl's got delusions. She could get hurt, or could hurt someone else, and I got no idea what she's tellin' people. Any clue where she is?"

I glanced back into the room, seeing instantly that both beds could be seen from the hall. Thankfully, Tara was still covered up, but I didn't know how long it would be until the voices woke her up. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I'm afraid I can't help you. Have you tried the public high school? That's easy to register for."

Donny looked at his father, a man whose name I still didn't have. "That's a good idea, miss, we'll try that next. Thanks for your time, and if you see her, give us a call." He handed me a card and the two men walked off, searching for another occupied room to interrogate. I shut the door and turned back to the bed. Tara was awake by now, and I could see two sleep-muzzy blue eyes peering at me inquiringly from beneath her cocoon of blankets.

I rubbed my head.  _There aren't words to express how much I don't want to deal with this._  I'd been fighting a red-hot anger from the time Donny had identified himself. Odds are, the next time I see either one of them, I'd punch them , and that's something I didn't want to do. Their lies about Tara made me so  _mad_ , though.

Sighing, I sat down. "We have a problem."

Tara sat up, drawing the covers around herself. I could almost see her erecting a shield in her mind, a wall between her and the world. I really, really didn't want to have to be the one to tell her that the monsters she ran from pursued her, but I didn't see how I had a choice. They might go away, without ever seeing her, but then again, if they didn't and she found out I knew, she'd never trust me again. _Right then. Into the breach._

I sat down next to her, gathering my thoughts and trying to think of a way to say what I had to say gently. Before I could think of anything, it just popped out of my mouth. "Your family's here. They're looking for you, and I think they might find you."

 _Well that certainly was gentle. About as gentle as a **sledgehammer**! You idiot._

As I castigated myself, Tara's eyes got wider, and her face got paler than I would have thought possible for a living human being. "W-W-What? They k-know I'm h-h-h-h-h-here? Oh g-goddess, I-I have t-to go." Her stutter hadn't been this bad in, well, ever. I'd never heard her this bad before, and it concerned me.

"Tara, baby, you know I'll never let them get you, right? You're safe. I don't care what happens, you will always be safe with me." For a second, I thought I'd gotten through to her, and maybe I had, but then her eyes got even wider, and she shoved out of the bed.

"Oh, god, they'll hurt you! I'm here and they'll find me and then they'll hurt you!" Her stutter had completely vanished, I guess because she was so sure of that one fact. She scrambled out of the confining bedclothes and dashed to the closet, yanking out everything she could and stuffing it in her suitcase. A little voice in the back of my brain noted how I hadn't even seen her get the thing out, before I shoved it away to concentrate on her.

Carefully but quickly I moved forward, dodging an errant flying sock that came hurtling towards my face. Reaching her with no further mishaps, I placed my hands over hers, stilling them and forcing her to look at me. "Tara. Stop. This isn't helping." Her hands shook in mine, and her lovely blue eyes were clouded with tears. The fear radiated off her in waves, and I knew that it wouldn't help to panic.

Keeping her hands in mine, I drew her back, until we were both sitting on the bed. I tugged her sideways, leaning her against me and draping an arm around her shoulders. Planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head, I began speaking, telling her random things from my past, just hoping that the sound of my voice and the thought of these random trivialities would soothe her.

After maybe half an hour of this, she snorted, shaking her head into my neck where she had nestled. "I really made an ass out of myself there, didn't I?"

Chuckling, I shook my head. "No, not at all. I know you're scared of them, and we do need a plan. I just think it'll help if we're not panicking and running around like a couple headless chickens."

She seemed to mull over that. Her brow crinkled, and I could see she was thinking about something really deep. I waited, knowing that whatever it was, it was most likely important.

"Did you know that cockroaches can live up to eight minutes without their heads? They keep moving and everything."

Or maybe not.

* * *

We woke up slowly the next morning, groaning and stretching before finally dragging out of bed. It seemed that all of those irritating doctors who say that at least eight hours of sleep is necessary were right.

I did tell her that we shouldn't have stayed up after that panic, but apparently panic makes some people horny. Ah, well, you can't say it wasn't worth it.

Of course, now that we needed to get coffee and get to school, we were both extremely sluggish, but since neither of us thought school was at the top of our priority list, naps were anticipated in class. Never thought I'd be advocating sleeping in class. It's all her fault!

"You're a bad influence." Without even thinking about it, I just said what was on my mind.

She raised an eyebrow. "Me? What did I ever do to you? I'm just the innocent little stuttering girl who sits in her corner."

I raised my eyebrows in return. "Can we just remember whose idea sex was? And with the going again? On top of which, you've got me thinking it's okay to skip classes!" By the time I was done, I was bouncing on my toes and pointing an emphatic finger at her. "I think, most emphatically, you!"

She laughed, sauntering over to me and drawing me into a kiss. My brain was blank when we separated. "Now, who's the bad influence?"

Blank. Blank. Blank. "Uh, fire bad?"

She smiled. "Exactly right."

"Miss Rosenberg!" My head shot up. Blinking, I looked around, already preparing my excuse for sleeping in class.  _Maybe an illness, or a family emergency…_

As it turned out, I didn’t need one. A woman I didn't recognize at all stood at the door, staring expectantly at me. It took me a second to remember that my name had been called. "Uh, yeah? I mean, yes? Is something wrong?"

The woman didn’t answer me directly, instead telling me I was needed in the office immediately. I rose, packing my books automatically as my mind raced, trying to recall anything I had done in the last few days that would merit a trip to the office. I came up empty, nothing springing to mind even after meticulous thought.  _If it's not me, then it's either paperwork or Tara. God, I hope it's paperwork_. Ignoring the ominous 'Oooooh…' that followed me out the door, I left, trailing the woman as she walked away.

I was getting worried. The woman in front of me hadn't said a single word after she summoned me, not even to introduce herself. I decided to break the silence, if only to spare my increasingly ragged nerves. "So, Miss…" I trailed off, not sure how to continue without her name.

Surprisingly, she spoke up. "Palazetti. My name is Jennifer Palazetti."

I nodded. "Thank you. Miss Palazetti. What's going on? Is everything all right?"

She was silent for a few seconds, her steps thudding on the tiled floor instead of the clicking of heels I had become accustomed to. Glancing down, I saw that her shoes were well-worn cowboy boots, seemingly used often and hard. I controlled the thoughtful frown that wanted to show on my face, not wanting Ms. Palazetti to think… I don't know, I just wanted everything to seem normal with me. Call it instinct, but I didn’t entirely trust her.

I took in the rest of her appearance, examining her from head to toe. Physically, she wasn't very imposing, standing probably only five six, shorter than me. Straight blonde hair fell past her shoulders, a color I thought was from a bottle. I couldn’t be sure though - I couldn’t see her roots. The brief glimpse of her front I'd gotten gave her blue eyes and a face that was startlingly pretty. I put her in her early twenties, twenty-five at the latest. Her clothes, though nice, were slightly creased and dirty.  _Either she hasn't washed her clothes in a while or she's been sleeping in them._

I was so deep in thought that it came as a shock to me when she answered. "I think it would be best if we discussed this privately, and with Tara present. I only want to have to explain everything once."  _Hoo boy. That doesn’t help my nerves._

There was nothing I could do, however, so I nodded and kept walking. Not for the first time, I cursed the sheer size of the campus. I wanted to know what was going on, damnit, and I wanted to know  **now**. The enormity of the campus prevented that.

Unconsciously I sped up, catching up to and then leaving behind Ms. Palazetti, forcing the woman to increase her pace as well. We arrived at the office a few minutes later, me slightly out of breath. The blonde irritatingly showed no signs of the near-sprint we'd ended up in, even managing to keep her hair in place. I, on the other hand, was sure I looked like a furry tomato, with my face matching my flyaway hair. I sighed, trying to catch my breath.

Looking around, I noticed that Ms. Palazetti was leading us straight back to Dr. Calendar's office. Somehow I doubted that the principal (or headmistress, whatever) would be directly involved with paperwork mishaps, and my stomach lurched.  _Oh god, please be all right…_ The sight of Tara, present and unharmed, sent a surge of relief through my entire body, allowing me to relax. I walked over to her and took her hand, waiting until our eyes met to mouth, 'Are you okay?' She nodded, and seemed just as confused as I was.

Dr. Calendar's voice pulled our attention - unwillingly - away from each other. We glanced up, our hands still joined. "Well, girls, it's come to my attention that there is a problem with your backgrounds. Not so much you, Willow, but Tara, I've been contacted by a gentleman claiming that you're actually a runaway-" her voice lifted on the word, making it sound like a question- "-and that it's my responsibility as dean of this school to turn you over to his care." Tara shrank against me, her grip on my hand tightening to painful levels. Her head shook frantically, trying to deny the awful truth. "I'm sorry, Tara, but he seems to be in the right. All his identity checks pan out, and he's actually on his-"

The door swung open. A large man, one I recognized from the night before, stood framed in the doorway. Behind him, Ms. Jenkins was returning to her desk, tucking what looked to be a sheaf of bills into her pocket. I closed my eyes briefly, taking a second to fume about the lack of security in the school. As I returned my attention to the man I knew to be Tara's father, his gaze alighted upon Tara herself. A light of triumph burned briefly, quickly suppressed and unseen by all but me. Tara cowered even farther into me, now actually completely behind me. I squeezed her hand reassuringly, keeping my focus on the man in front of me.

He took a step forward, towards Tara and I. We both retreated, afraid of this man, but for different reasons. I knew why Tara feared him, but I didn't fear him for any physical reason. It was simply that his aim was to take her away from me, and that frightened me more than anything he could do to my body.

When he took a second step, the trance that had seemed to fall over the office snapped. Tara and I kept backing away, while Dr. Calendar came out from behind her desk, moving so that she was between him and us. "Excuse me, but do you have a reason to be here?" I couldn't see her face, but I could imagine the glare she'd be giving him right about now.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to have the effect on him as it did on her hapless students. "As a matter of fact I do, lady. That there's my daughter, and she belongs at home with me and mine, not here in this… place." He smirked as he said this, and stepped forward yet again, this time reaching for Tara. Dr. Calendar wasn’t done, though. Not by a long shot.

"Do you possess any identification that can verify this allegation?" She seemed to realize that this wouldn't be understood, so she clarified. "Do you have any ID? That can prove you're actually her father?"

His eyes widened, then narrowed.  _Guess he didn't think of that._ Growling, he advanced on her. "Look, lady, this is none of your business. That's my kid, and I don't need no damn papers to prove that!" Brushing her aside, he came straight for Tara, gripping her upper arm and yanking her to him. "Tell her the truth, girl. Tell her what you did!" He glared at her downturned head. "Not gonna say anything? All right, I will." He spoke to us now. "She attacked me and her older brother, then took off on us. We been tracking her for days, and now with Ms. Palazetti's help we found her." He reluctantly gestured to the said woman, who had been quietly observing from a corner the entire time.

I raised my eyebrows, marveling at the sheer idiocy of the man who stood before me.  _That entire story can be disproved with a few simple questions_. I opened my mouth, but before I could ask anything, Dr. Calendar overrode me. "You expect me to believe that this girl-" She gestured to Tara, hanging limp and acquiescent in her father's grasp. "-assaulted both you and your son, who I'm assuming is not without considerable physical prowess, and was able to incapacitate you both adequately enough to flee?" His mouth opened, then shut, and I could almost see his brain trying to muddle out what she'd said. She sighed. "You've  _got_  to be kidding me."

He understood that, all right. He seemed to be getting angry at her not believing his story, but he couldn't protest because then he'd be belittling his own masculinity. I smirked. "Can I ask two questions?" Not waiting for an answer, I continued. "First, do you or your son have any actual wounds? And second, how do you explain the wounds on Tara herself?" I heard a sharp intake of breath from behind me, and Tara abruptly pulled her hand from mine. I turned to look back at her and winced at the anger I saw in her eyes. "Sorry, Tara, but he needs to be put away, and I'm willing to endure your anger if I know you're safe." She didn't say anything, and the anger I saw didn't dissipate.  _Sorry, love, but whatever it takes._

Tara's anger was matched by Mr. Maclay's. Shaking the girl he held in his grasp, he roared, "Girl, what you been tellin' people? What- what  _lies_  and _slander_  have you been spreadin'?" She didn't answer.

Stepping forward, I answered him calmly, working extremely hard to keep my nerves out of my voice. "She didn’t have to say anything, Mr. Maclay. I saw with my own eyes."

"Yeah? And what is it you think you saw?" He did his best to intimidate me, looming and growling and glaring quite impressively. I was intimidated, too. I suppressed it, though, seeing how cruelly he held Tara.

I stepped forward, getting almost but not quite in his personal space. "The results of exactly what I'm seeing now. Get your filthy hands  **OFF**  of her!" What had started as a controlled tone had morphed into a snarl, and I'm pretty sure I looked a little bit feral. Whatever he saw in my face had him take a half step back, and I swear he almost obeyed me and released Tara. Sadly, though, he regained control of himself and stopped.

Staring at me, and only at me, he tightened his grip on Tara until I could see her biting her lip so she didn't cry out. My fists clenched, and I moved to take a step, before a new voice shocked me. "Mr. Maclay, please release the girl." We all turned to the source.

Ms Palazetti wasn't in the corner anymore. Everyone in the room had forgotten she was there, and she'd moved forward until she was in the central spot of the room. What was startling was that that spot was right behind Tara's father. What was astonishing was that she was addressing him with a complete lack of fear. And what was completely mind-blowing was the gun she had aimed at the back of his head.

Mr. Maclay had enough sense to release Tara, and she instantly scurried back behind me. He turned slowly, hands in the air, and looked at Ms. Palazetti. "Turn around, Mr. Maclay." He just looked at her, murder in his eyes. "Don't even think about it. Turn around!" He did so slowly, and in record time she'd holstered her gun and handcuffed him. "Let me introduce myself again. My name is Jennifer Palazetti, and I'm with the Special Crimes Squad of the SFPD. You, Donald Maclay, are under arrest."

* * *

After reading Mr. Maclay his rights and placing him in the care of two uniformed officers who had responded to Ms. Palazetti's call, she came back in the room. "You guys probably want some answers." Off our nods, she explained. "We knew about your… crappy home life for a while, Tara. We being the police. Unfortunately, we could never get enough evidence to arrest him without him being alerted and running. I've been undercover on your case ever since you ran away, Tara. I pretended to be a PI, specializing in tracking down runaways. You'd be surprised what a man admits to a pretty lady, especially one he think is on his side. He hired me, and after and extremely large amounts of dead ends and wild goose chases, I'd compiled enough evidence that all I needed was to find you. The doctor's reports should be the nail in his coffin, and you won't even have to stand trial." I tried to interject with a question, but she anticipated me. "My colleagues weren't just sitting on their asses eating donuts while I was working. They collected evidence, interviewed neighbors, and just got as much dirt on the family as possible. You're free, Tara. We got him."

Tara seemed almost dazed. I couldn't blame her, really. This was a lot to dump in her lap all at once. "F-free?"

Ms. Palazetti smiled. "Yeah, honey. You don't have to worry about being hurt anymore. Oh, and we got Donny too."

Tara turned to me. "Will-"

"I know." I cut her off before she could speak. I'd seen the anger and hurt in her eyes as I told her most guarded secret, and I didn't want to hear what was coming spoken out loud. Before I could go on, though, she interrupted me.

"No, you don't. You might have spilled a couple of secrets I'd rather weren't common knowledge, but that doesn't negate the fact that you were willing to do whatever it took to save me. You're still my knight in shining leather, and I will always love you."

I looked up at her, and the sincerity and love shining out of her eyes would have been enough to convince me, even without the gentle kiss that followed. I sighed, loving the feeling of peace that radiated off of her. I hugged her, and realized that for the first time since I'd met her, Tara was completely relaxed in my arms. Kissing the top of her head, I vowed, "You will never be hurt again."

* * *

I can't say I kept that vow. Couples fight, it happens, and someone gets hurt. But what I can say is that it's never been on purpose, and I've always done my utmost to comfort her afterwards. I was blessed that day on the bus, when a shy, stuttering blonde chose to sit next to a wounded redhead. It was the beginning of love.

 


End file.
